


Playing Along

by Dana



Series: Playing For Keeps [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blowjobs and anal sex oh my, Established Relationship, Gavin doesn't get any (sorry not sorry), Humans are shitty to other humans so why is anyone surprised they continue to be shitty to androids?, M/M, Political Nonsense, Porn with Feelings, Post-Game, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), and ofc there's the Hank/Nines, anywho Nines is really (helplessly and hopelessly okay) in love with Gavin, guys guys guys I have so much planned for this 'verse you don't even know, most of the focus in this one is on Hank/Connor and Hank/Connor/Nines, oh yeah and then there's the bs about android genitalia enjoy!, please don't worry too much about the smol angry bean (he'll get his turn), some wire play, starts off with some Bottom Hank for all of you thirsty individuals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-02 10:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15794754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dana/pseuds/Dana
Summary: Hank scratches his chest and yawns.  'What's wrong?''It's a message from Captain Fowler.  He requires my presence at the station – ''Ah, for fuck's sake,no.'  Hank curls against him, holding Connor tight, smashing his face against his thigh and giving a low, possessive growl.  'We hardly ever get a day off like this in the middle of the week.  Tell him to fuck off, you're not going to work.'





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, wow, man, I've gotta start by saying that this story was not supposed to explode on me like this. Close to 27k for a oneshot, it's not the end of the world or anything, but it still kind of hit me out of left field. The main thing here is that, after Gavin is injured in the line of duty, he ends up in the hospital for a few days, and Nines ends up staying with Hank and Connor. Shenanigans ensue.
> 
> Betaed by connorandroidfbi! She's my enabler lol

'Is that okay?' Connor's voice is soft, so soft.

Hank's, on the other hand, is hoarse and needy, _rough_. 'Fuck – God, yes, _Connor_. Yes, please.' He tries to wiggle, but Connor's hands are pressed down at his hips, absolutely unyielding, not letting him move.

His LED is blue, so blue, and Hank's vision blurs with sweat and need. Connor tilts his head sideways as his tongue flicks between his lips, breathing out softly. Connor murmurs, 'You're not making a whole lot of sense, Hank. I have to be sure – '

And Hank, he's shaking, feeling the electric thrum of Connor's cock, from where it's buried balls-deep. 'Just fucking _do it_.' _Do me, do me, **do me**_ , the little voice in his head is _shrieking_ , and Connor won't move, Hank needs him to do something, _now_. Connor's face lights up as he gives Hank one of those half-smiles of his, his eyes glittering darkly in the gloom of their bedroom. The blinds are shut tight, but there's an ambient golden glow, dusty and dim like some sort of old time Snapchat filter, permeating the room. That stray curl of his is driving Hank _mad_ , but hey, so's the fact that Connor won't _move_.

God, he's so fucking _pretty_ , with those freckles of his and that stupid random curl, and Hank's weak with it, dizzy with it, light-headed and panting. Lazy trickles of sweat slide down his neck, down his belly, the room's hot enough to be a sauna, and there's a pleasant flush of color on Connor's cheeks, rosy pink. 'Connor, please,' Hank groans, please, please, _please_. Connor's got endless stamina, and he's been edging Hank on like the fucking tease he is, getting him close and backing right off, making Hank beg for it, because he can get away with it. Hank's close to weeping, but fuck that, no, _no_ , he's not gonna cry, he's stronger than that.

Another smile, just as self-assured. Connor's thumb rubs small circles at the soft skin of Hank's hip as he hums to himself, pleased with the hold he's got on his human. God, God, _God_. He's never felt as _owned_. ' _Please_... I can't take it any more…' He knows what he'll get for trying to sneak a hand over to grip his aching prick, because one of Connor's hands shoot out and grabs him at the wrist, pushing his arm back until it's pressed to the too-silky sheets, his hand and the cloth tacky with sweat as they stick together.

But that gives Hank a chance to wiggle down harder, just enough to make Connor's dick brush against his prostate, and Hank lets out a moan that he shouldn't be proud of, but he doesn't fucking care. Connor smirks, sharpening the softness of his too-innocent face. The little shit must have preconstructed the fuck out of that before letting Hank go, and pushing him back, that it was a calculated risk that he was perfectly aware of – Hank's left feeling that he's only getting what he wants because it's what Connor's letting him have.

Connor edges back an inch, and a groan rumbles low in Hank's throat. 'Yes, come on.' Connor's lashes flutter as he sighs, and Hank feels the pull of his own body as Connor slides back an inch more. 'Come _on_ , fuck it, fuck _me_.'

Connor laughs, low and sweet, and damn, Hank feels it go through him, muscle, blood and bone. He lets out a breath, and Connor snaps his hips sharply, and the sound Hank makes, well, it's not dignified at all.

Connor smiles, rolls his hips, and Hank rocks into it, panting harder. Yes, fucking, _yes_. Hank slams his eyes shut, feels the pressure building in his balls. All he even knows is Connor, hot, hard, _deep_ , nudging against Hank's flesh as if he'd go deeper if was something that was even possible. Hank lets out long, low breaths, as Connor fills him and then leaves him wanting. The pitch builds, frantic, burning, fast, slows and Hank's cursing at Connor, begging for more.

A twitch at the corner of those stingingly sweet lips, and Connor takes pity on him, thrusting hard and keeping up a perfect rhythm as he takes hold of Hank's aching dick, _finally_. Hank lasts a few more thrusts, and spills all over his stomach and chest, all over Connor's hand.

Connor finishes as well and pulls out, slowly – Hank groans. Connor leans over to give him a kiss before rolling out of bed, padding into the bathroom and fetching a warm cloth. He comes back, gently wipes off the mess on Hank's stomach and chest. Gives him a few more soft kisses, then tosses the cloth into the hamper without looking back.

Hank hmmphs, as Connor cuddles in close. He turns and presses in to Connor's warmth, listening to the soft whir of his fans and the beat of his thirium regulator doing its thing. 'Love you,' he mutters. Connor's fingers brush at his cheek, and Connor murmurs against his mouth, 'love _you_.'

It was late afternoon already and they doze like that for a while, Hank curled inwards, cuddled into Connor. He wakes a few times, but quickly slips back under. Another time, after he wakes, Connor's drawn away from him, sitting up. There's a frown on his lips.

Hank scratches his chest and yawns. 'What's wrong?'

'It's a message from Captain Fowler. He requires my presence at the station – '

'Ah, for fuck's sake, _no_.' Hank curls against him, holding Connor tight, smashing his face against his thigh and giving a low, possessive growl. 'We hardly ever get a day off like this in the middle of the week. Tell him to fuck off, you're not going to work.'

Connor begins to pull away from him, but Hank redoubles his efforts, and pulls him back down. Connor could break that hold easily, if it was what he wanted, but all he does is give a soft, low sigh as he presses a kiss into Hank's messy hair, and after Hank gives him the needed room for it, he settles back down.

' _Connor_.'

'The Captain only asked for one of us to come in. You can stay here, and continue to nap and otherwise enjoy your day off. You deserve it.' He smiles gently, caressing down Hank's jaw with his thumb, and maybe that's what he says, but Connor deserves it too. 'I'll be back before you know it.'

Hank huffs his disbelief. 'I fucking doubt it.'

'Hank, please.' Those soft, slender fingers of his stroke down to Hank's broad chest. Toy with his chest hair, because Connor's got some sort of _thing_ for it, doesn't think of it as fucking gross. 'You've been very good, lately. As a reward, once I return home this evening, perhaps you could order delivery from your favorite pizza establishment?'

'Jesus, you fucking android,' Hank grumbles, but there's no sting in his words. 'Okay, whatever.'

Connor's eyebrows shift upwards in amusement, and then he leans down, crowding in close, mouth brushing against Hank's. Hank pushes upwards into it, gets a hand up and behind Connor's neck, tugging him down into the kiss. They kiss, lazily, like they've all the time in the world, when Hank knows that time is actually quickly running out.

'Pizza it is,' he mumbles, and Connor smirks as he draws back. 'And beer, I want some beer.'

'Yes, Lieutenant, of course,' Connor replies with a wry quirk of his lips. 'I'll keep you updated once I know more, but please, Hank, do try to relax. At least one of us should be able to enjoy our day off.' Another kiss, this one a quick peck on the lips, and Connor gives Hank the sort of smile that makes his heart _ache_. 'I suppose I should shower. If I'm needed on scene, I probably shouldn't smell like I've just had sex.'

Really fucking good sex, too, if the pleasant aching is anything to go by. Hank huffs, hand slipping away as Connor begins to rise. He's all mussed up, smells like he's been rolling around in eau de Hank, and no, it's not professional, but Hank's sure as hell pleased with the result. Connor likes it, too, given how he still tends to wander round the house in Hank's borrowed clothes instead of wearing any of his own.

Hank doesn't really know how they got here, though that's not true at all, he _does_. But it never really makes as much sense as he'd like it to, but then, there's probably nothing wrong with that.

–  
–

It was a slow day. Without Connor there to give him some sort of purpose, Hank could have slept away the rest of the afternoon – it sure as fuck was tempting. But Hank, since he thought better of himself – maybe because Connor thought better of him too, how the fuck did that work, Hank didn't _know_ – got out of bed and dressed, though he knew Connor wouldn't have faulted him for taking that nap. He even brushes his hair and puts it up in a neat enough ponytail. Sumo gives him a few needy whimpers, tail thumping against the floor.

Hank smiles at him. 'Hey, boy.' He drops down to rub his dog's face and Sumo responds happily, with soft boofs and plenty of licks to the face, getting slobber everywhere. 'Yeah, you're a good boy,' Hank chuckles, wiping off his hands. 'You wanna go for a walk?'

Sumo goes absolutely crazy, tail wagging even harder as he prances about, acting like a puppy instead of the senior dog he actually is – Hank's said _walk_ and that's one of the dog's favorite words ever, Sumo knows how this goes.

Hank's smirking as he gets up, goes to fetch Sumo's leash. He backtracks to the bedroom, and grabs his cellphone, stuffing it into one of his pockets. Connor might send him a message or something, he wants to make sure he can be contacted.

Hank dangles the leash and Sumo leaps forwards and leaps back, prancing about as his hard nails tick-tack against the floor. Laughing, Hank snaps the leash on and leads Sumo to the front door.

It's been a while since Hank took Sumo on a walk by himself. It's either Connor doing it because he wants to, or Connor there with him, and Connor not being there is a space all of its own. Hank can _feel_ what's missing, and he hates it. Means he's a little too hopelessly in love with Connor. But he guesses that's okay, right? It's got to be, there's really no taking it back.

Connor's seen him at his worst, not even because Hank wanted him too. And he could have picked anyone, went anywhere, could be hanging out with RoboJesus and the Jericho gang – but no, Connor wants to be with him. And Sumo, too. Sumo's a big part of the picture.

But Hank's slowly coming to understand, he's a much bigger part than even Sumo.

'What would I do without him?' he asks Sumo as Sumo noses into some bushes, sniffing the hell out of them. 'Yeah, you go on and ignore me, whatever. You'd miss him if he was gone.'

His cellphone starts vibrating in his pocket. Doubling up the lead around one hand, he digs in his pocket with his other. The message is from Connor, of course, and Hank swipes up and to the left (Connor says his phone needs better security than that, but no fucking thanks. The last thing Hank needs is to forget his pass-code or whatever if something important actually happened, and if some fucker wants like 500 pictures of his dog, then they can go wild). The full message pops up onto the screen.

 _–Good afternoon, Hank. It's very understaffed at the precinct, it's no wonder the captain requested I come in._ Hank huffs as he shakes his head – requested, right. It's not like Connor had any other choice. _It's very busy now, so I won't keep you long._ Hank grins at Connor's joke. _I miss you, and Sumo. I really will be back before you know it._

And then, in a separate message. _–I love you, Hank._

Biting the tip of his tongue as he fumbles through a reply, Sumo starts to tug on the leash. _–luv u 2, Con_. Connor's gonna roll his eyes at that, Hank's dependency on text speak. It's that or leet speak, and the last time he texted leet speak at Connor, he shot back with Base64 and that was a fucking trip… well, you gotta choose your battles, Hank knows that. It's better this way.

Sumo barks, gives a harder tug on the leash. 'Calm down, Sumo,' Hank tells him, but Sumo snarls and then leaps forward, and the leash, which Hank had thought was wrapped tightly enough around his hand, snaps as he bounds off into the bushes.

'Ah, for fuck's sake, get back here, Sumo!'

It takes him ten minutes, and he's panting by the end of it, but he finally chases Sumo down.

–  
–

Sumo's in a much better mood once he finally gets home, but then, so is Hank, even though he had to hang onto Sumo by the shreds of his torn leash. Once Sumo's romped back to the kitchen to have a go at his kibble, Hank leans back against the door and sends Connor another message.

_–we ned 2 buy sumo a new leash_

The phone vibrates seconds later.

_–What happened to his old one?_

_–broke it. he was chasing a cat_

He toes out of his shoes and pulls his socks off, heads to the bedroom to put on some more comfortable shorts. In the kitchen, Sumo's noisily munching down on his own food and late lunch is better than no lunch at all, so Hank gets to work on that.

He ends up with a sandwich, some carrot wedges, and a can of pop, which he takes into the living room. He gets comfy on his side of the couch, digging around for the remote with one hand and balancing his plate in the other. After he's finished with all that, he dumps the remainders on the table.

And he gets so relaxed, he ends up sleeping for a while.

His cellphone, which he'd popped into the front shirt pocket, starts buzzing and that wakes him right away. He grumbles and checks the lock-screen, sees that it's Connor who's sent him another message, so he swipes his thumb across the screen so he can read more.

_–Hello again, Hank. We've had something of a break on case #58973… the one with the serial killer who's been targeting android-human couples. We believe we have an actual eye witness, but we won't know until they've been questioned. I'm heading out with Gavin and Nines. Nines believes that, by working together, we should be able to keep Gavin out of trouble._

Hank smirks, and shoots back a quick reply. _–hv fun. dnt do nethng i wouldn't do_

He sits back up and pockets the phone. Grabs up the can of pop, winces at the taste of it. Pineapple passion's his fucking favorite, but Connor's got him on a health kick. Only way he let a six pack of the stuff in the house was if it was _diet_ , and the lukewarm aspartame makes him feel sick. Hell, they aren't even married (yet?), but Hank's still pretty whipped.

'Fuck my life,' he mutters.

He could live without it, sure, but he doesn't want to – well, unless he's having a treat day, that's totally different. And maybe, yeah, he hates it sometimes, but he loves Connor too much to try to make him stop. Hank could have been fighting it, fighting the changes, and even when he's sick to death of it he knows it's just because Connor cares. He can think that because he's having a good day, sure, but he doesn't always have them. But they're fewer and farther between, and Connor's a big part of that.

In fact, Connor's the best thing that's happened to in years – hell, he'd gotten to a point in life where he'd just come to expect good things didn't happen to sad old fucks like him anymore. But there Connor was, making him doubt his very existence, all because he liked him. Cared for him. _Loved_ him. Called him on his shit, sure, but Hank likes that Connor speaks his mind. Got angry at him when he acted like him loving Hank had only happened because he had so little experience with the human world, that he'd impressed upon the first person who'd shown him any sort of kindness. Kindness, yeah – well, there was that, too, Hank had definitely also been a jerk. Deep down inside him, Hank had agonized over how _human_ Connor had seemed, and wanted to be proven wrong about all of his own, biased of course, preconceived notions.

He wakes with a start. He'd been too fucking relaxed, hadn't even noticed it when he ended up sleeping away the rest of the afternoon. His phone is vibrating in his pocket, but the ring tone's going as well – it's Mr Roboto by Styx, because of course it fucking is, Hank's got _standards_ (and for most things, they're pretty fucking low). Connor had been thoroughly amused by it, which doesn't say anything good about his sense of humor.

Hank grabs the phone out of his pocket before it's given a chance to go to voicemail, pushes himself to a sitting position. He's groggy, a little irritated. He'd really rather be sleeping, but Connor wouldn't just call him for anything. They prefer texts – well, _Hank_ prefers texts, and Connor's pretty adaptable when he wants to be. If Connor's actually calling him, the likelihood it's for something serious is pretty damn high.

It's dark outside the front windows. See, Connor shouldn't be calling him, Connor should already be home from work.

'Connor?'

'Lieutenant, I'm sorry to have called you. I know you prefer texts over actual calls – '

'Whatever, it doesn't matter. Is something wrong?'

'He was chasing the suspect – we're at the hospital now, I think he should be alright – '

'Wait, the fuck, who's at the hospital?'

'What – oh, right. Gavin?' He makes it sound like a question, and Hank's a little more confused. 'He's been shot.'

–  
–

It didn't take him long to put on some outside-suitable clothes. He even lets Sumo out so he could do his business in the backyard, fills up his dog's bowls while he's waiting. So by the time Sumo bounds back in, Hank's good to go. After giving his dog a pat on the head and telling him he'd be back as soon as he could, Hank was out the door.

And for what? A visit to a fucking _hospital_. It wasn't any big secret, Hank hates hospitals. When he thinks about them too hard, he thinks about _Cole_ , the blood on his shirt and on his hands, and – ah, _fuck_ , no. He grips the steering wheel tightly and presses his foot down on the gas. 'Get a fucking hold of yourself, Anderson,' he mutters. Connor's at the hospital, which means that Nines is at the hospital, and maybe Gavin's not exactly his favorite person ever, but that doesn't mean he wants to see him get _shot_.

Maybe… maybe, once, he wouldn't have minded it as much. Kind of like how he used to hate androids, and now he's in love with one of them – how's that for fucking character growth.

It's like he's had to park miles away from the front entrance, the hospital is packed even at this time of the night. He's glad he threw on his coat, the night air is chilly, and the wind picks up as he huddles down and treks towards the brightly glowing building.

The automatic doors whoosh as they open in front of him, and Hank storms inside, greeted by a blast of heated air. He's only looking for the front desk, so seeing Nines and Connor, out in the waiting room, comes as something of a surprise.

Connor's hand is resting lightly on Nines's arm, but Connor's watching Hank arrive. He's looking across the room at him, his eyes gone wide, his fingers bunching in Nines's bright white sleeve as Hank speeds up to make it across the room. Relief washes across Connor's face, his LED flashing blue as he smiles. But, he doesn't let go of Nines, instead presses closer against him, protectively close.

Well, hugging his own partner while Nines is in who knows what sort of shape, seems kind of callous. Hank gets it.

Hank jams his hands down into the pockets of his coat, he doesn't really know what else to do. 'We heard anything yet?'

'Gavin's made it out of surgery,' Connor replies, very softly. Nines doesn't even flinch, staring out across the room at the other people milling about in the front lobby, some of them hospital staff, or people waiting to get into the ER, though a few of them simply look like they're lost. 'Captain Fowler and a number of other officers have already gone inside.'

'So why are you two waiting out here?'

Connor winces.

It's Nines who opens his mouth to reply. 'Because of local laws in Wayne county, the hospital is able to legally deny androids a right to see patients, simply because they can – it's buried in legalese about religious choice, strictly speaking, and it recalls a time when androids were not considered people and the laws have still not _changed_. This is as far as we're allowed inside.' Hank gawks at him, the words slowly turning over in his head and sinking in. 'They won't let me _see him_.' At his temple, Nines's LED is whirling away, bright, angry red.

Hank blinks, lets out a breath, it's actually a little like he's been hit in the solar plexus. 'What the actual fuck? But Gavin's your partner! Shit, shit – just, let me have a talk with Jeffrey, he'll sort this the fuck right out.' Hank's never been a fan of this sort of shitty law, he's seen too many of them in his time. 'Just stay here, okay? I'll fix this.'

Neither of them feel like being smart asses, so Hank doesn't get asked, _where else could we go_? Connor gives him a small smile, and Hank tips his head at him. The tension in his chest is suddenly unbearable, closing in on his heart. It could have been him in Gavin's place, _fuck_. And they wouldn't have allowed Connor to see him, just because he was an android. 'I'll fix this,' again, but this time, softly.

Connor gives a small nod of his head in return, then turns his attention back onto Nines, who is staring out blankly, and yet, at the same time, somehow with more turbulence in his eyes than Hank had ever thought him capable of showing. He really feels something for Gavin, even though Hank really does wonder if Gavin deserves that sort of devotion. And maybe that's not fair, whatever, life isn't fair. Hank knows that, too. But hey, maybe he's just missing something, something that's obvious to Nines.

Nines's hand shoots out, and he grabs Hank by the arm. Hank blinks down at the hand that's got a hold on him, them up into the face of the shell-shocked android. 'You need something before I go?'

Nines winces. 'Just, tell Gavin… tell him…' But then he trails off into nothingness, utter silence, LED flicking from red to yellow and then back again. But Hank gets that, hell, does he ever get that.

'I'll let him know.'

Nines offers him a very small smile, and then lets go of Hank's sleeve.

Hank turns and heads over to the front desk. The girl – the young woman, actually, a brunette with her hair in a ponytail – smiles at him somewhat hesitantly. She's close by to where Nines and Connor are standing, maybe she'd overheard without meaning to. And it's not like Hank had been trying all that hard to keep it down.

'How can I help you?'

'I'm here to see Gavin Reed.' He digs out his ID and shows it to her. She scans something on her terminal, then asks him to sign the guest register, lets him know Gavin's room number. Hank does, and then pockets his ID. The girl then gives him directions, which Hank hopes to fucking remember.

She also adds, almost under her breath, 'I'm sorry.'

Hank gives her a hard look, and she shifts nervously. Good people have to do things they don't actually want to do, in this capitalistic fucking society of theirs. Work the jobs they can, because they can. Make sure they put food on the tables for themselves and their loved ones. Hate what they have to do, but fight to make it better. Be the change you want to see in the world.

He nods sharply at her, sticks the name tag to his chest and then shoots one last look at Connor and Nines – a weary smile, but hopefully optimistic – before heading further inside.

–  
–

After making his way through another automatic door, and then taking a turn towards the elevators, Hank realizes he's gotten to the hospital pretty late. A couple of officers – Chris is one of them, and Hank waves at him as he heads out, which gets Chris to stop so they can chat for a few minutes, but then he's on his way home to his wife and his kid – come out of the elevator, and then Hank takes his place inside. Hits the button for the second floor, really hopes no one else ends up sharing the ride with him. Time slows down, and his heartbeat speeds up. He hates hospitals, but he's not too fond of elevators, either. He can deal with them, sure, but combine the two things and everything sucks.

His luck holds out and the elevator door dings as it slides open. The hallway is sparsely populated in both directions, but a few nurses are milling about at their stations, food trolleys with empty platters stored inside them. He feels a little better, his head is much clearer.

And even before they're face to face, Hank can see it's Fowler who's standing outside Gavin's room. 'Hey.'

Fowler was in the middle of running his hands down his face. 'Hank. What a surprise.'

'Ha. Yeah, Gavin's not my boyfriend or anything, but he probably didn't ask to get shot.'

'He didn't. He was out with Nines, meant to interview someone related to case #58973. Spotted a perp from an unrelated case, and they took chase.'

'Right, of course. Sounds fucking fascinating.'

Fowler raises one of his eyebrows, just daring Hank to go on. And Hank, being himself, goes for it.

'So, between you and me,' and the nurses he's sure are within hearing range, because yet again it's not like Hank's trying to keep it down, 'why the hell is Nines waiting outside when he should be here with his fucking partner?'

Fowler gives him a _look_ , the _why would you fucking bring that up?_ sort of look that Hank's actually pretty fucking familiar with, he's seen it too many times to count, let alone remember. 'Hank,' he says, voice steady as anything, 'how about you not raise your voice? We're in a hospital, people are trying to rest.'

The door to room number 257 is shut, it's not like Gavin can hear, not unless Hank really decides to shout.

Hank leans to one side, arms folded across his chest. 'You can't add shit to my disciplinary file when I'm off the clock.'

'Yeah, but you still might get your ass dragged out of here by security, that's not up to me. So maybe you should think about that.'

Hank leans the other way, putting weight on his left foot, and lets out a heavy sigh. 'Point taken, but it still isn't right.'

Fowler jerks his head to the left. A few doors away from Gavin's room, there's a waiting area with a few plush chairs and a tv on a little wooden stand, over in the corner. 'Please, sit. Let's discuss this like adults.'

Another huff, but Hank drops down into one of the chairs and Fowler sits opposite. 'This is a crock of shit. Nines is Gavin's partner, he should be here too!'

'God, Hank, like I don't know that already! Look, it's shitty but there's nothing I can do about it.' Hank's not so sure how he feels about _that_. Knowing Fowler, because it's always political, he's trying not to make a scene because that could come down hard on the DPD as a whole. And that makes Hank's blood run hot, the fucking _bullshit_.

'Can't, or don't want to?'

Fowler sneers at him. 'Look, I get it, you suddenly like androids - ' _Suddenly_? This sure as hell hadn't happened over night! ' – and Nines and Connor are two of the best we've got. The law's the law, and we both know that some of them are pretty fucking stupid – especially the ones that this place sports, with the idiotic loopholes that bigots use to make other people's lives into a living hell.'

'A fucking loophole, you say?'

'Something about it being against the board of director's religious beliefs, that androids be allowed inside as actual visitors.'

Yeah, Nines had said as much, but still – Hank shakes his head, grits his teeth. 'What the actual fuck.'

'But until something gets done about them, something legal, there's nothing that can be done. I'm not going to risk the station's reputation over nothing.'

'Fucking hell, Jeff – '

'Look, Hank, I'm on your side here, but you _know_ how I feel about being called _Jeff_.'

'This isn't _nothing_ , you know it isn't nothing. Have you even asked how Nines is doing? He looks like he's the one who'd been fucking shot!'

'Maybe if he'd kept a better eye on his partner, we wouldn't have to be here.'

Hank feels like the breath has been knocked out of him. Ah, fuck, he was supposed to _fix this_ , but the further he digs into it, the worse it all gets. He stands up quickly, nervous energy rushing through him, combined with the fact that he pretty much hates hospitals in general, and he doesn't want to _be here_ , let alone harping at his boss about how _Gavin Reed_ deserves better, as does Nines. Hank rubs his hands together, pacing from one side of the room to the other. Stops, and spins around, facing Fowler, who's still sat in his chair.

'You don't mean that.'

Fowler sighs, rubbing a hand across his brow. 'No, I don't. We're all stressed. I don't like it when one of my people get hurt, and I'd say the same thing if something like this had happened to Nines, or Connor, or any of our other androids.'

Of course, the androids, even the ones who weren't advanced prototypes, could take a whole lot more than any of the flimsy humans, but that didn't matter. The thought of Connor being shot, of him maybe nearly dying, made bile rise up in Hank's throat. He'd seen Connor die once already, just to be replaced the next day – he remembers it clear as anything, driving up outside Kamski's, and seeing Connor standing there in the snow, like nothing had fucking happened. Connor had _died in his arms_ , but there he was, like a package from Amazon he hadn't known would be delivered. Hank hadn't even know how much of _his_ Connor was in there, but after the distress that Kamski had foisted on him, when Connor had chosen not to shoot the Chloe in cold-fucking-blood, Hank _knew_.

And that was when CyberLife had him keep a constant back up himself in cloud storage, so they could download his memory into a fresh Connor if anything else happened to the current one. Who even knows what would happen _now_ , but Hank sure as hell never wants to have to find out.

'We get the fucker who shot him?'

'We did. Nines was able to subdue him.'

'Subdue him?'

'In layman's terms, the bastard was shot.'

'That's fine, fucker deserved it.'

'I know. He's actually here as well, under guard and getting patched up so he can be moved to the station for further questioning. Look,' a sigh, and then Fowler pushes himself up from the chair. 'You feel like visiting him, you best get a move on. Visitation's over soon, and he's already pretty wasted.'

'Oh, yeah. Got it.'

Fowler goes his own way, back down the long hall to the elevators closer to the end. Some of the food trolleys are gone, it really is getting late.

Hank ends up outside Gavin's door. It's open now, slightly ajar, and Hank pushes it in gently, trying not to make too much sound.

Some of the lights are still on, but they're pretty dim. It's a private room, with a couple of chairs. One of the bedside tables is full of flowers, and cards, there's even a few balloons tied to the bed frame. A few of them had the actual sayings they were designed with crossed off, and rude things scribbled on them instead. Gavin is the precinct's favorite piece of shit, that's for sure.

He's looking oddly pale, one of his arms above the cover, he's clutching at the blanket. He's gazing away from the door, the sounds of the bedside machinery seemingly the loudest thing for miles. Fighting down another wave of nauseous unease, Hank taps on the door and says, 'Hey, you still awake?'

Gavin's head jerks to one side. He squints at Hank, a little in disbelief. 'The fuck?'

'Yeah, it's good to see you too.' He strolls over to the chair closet to the bed, grabs hold of it and angles it a little closer. Drops down into the seat, gives Gavin a good, hard look. 'God, man, you look like shit.'

Gavin stares up at him, _no duh, shithead_ , and lets out a tired little huff. 'Like you on a good day then, great.' He grabs the little remote that lets him adjust his bed, and a minute or so later he's propped up and ready to talk.

'The hospital gown does shit for your complexion,' Hank says.

'Thanks a fucking ton, I don't care.'

Hank huffs. 'So, you feel like filling me in on what the fuck exactly happened?'

'I told Nines I could handle myself.' A rapid wave of expression washes over his face, annoyance and fear and _anger_ , and he lets out a heavy sigh, lifting his head up and then letting it drop back down. Starts picking at the blanket again, not actually looking Hank in the eye. 'I was wrong about that, alright? Just fucking let it go.'

'He's worried about you.'

Gavin flinches, looks away. 'I know. But – but where is he, if he's really all that worried?' Ah yeah, self doubt – what a fucking bitch.

Hank shrugs, leaning back. 'Jeff's been in here already, I bet you know exactly what's going on.'

Gavin leans his head back over the other way, sighing. 'Yeah, but I was trusting you to lie or something. Fucking bullshit.'

'Fucking bullshit,' Hank echoes, but it feels empty.

He remembers the way Nines had tried to give him a message to pass on to Gavin, but he hadn't been able to. The blank silence that had followed. The way his LED had flickered rapidly, red and yellow. 'He misses you.' It's close enough to what he'd want to be said, if he was in the same place.

Gavin nods. 'Yeah, I miss him too.'

They sit a little while longer, not saying anything, but Hank's not quite ready to leave.

'So,' Gavin takes hold of the remote and pushes the button to raise his bed up a little higher, straightening his back out as he does. Hank should probably tell Gavin to take it easy, he really does look like shit, but he's hooked up to the IV machine with its various other function. If something goes wrong, he's trusting that stand to alert the closest nurse, Hank sure as hell doesn't know what he'd do. 'How's is he taking it?'

'About as well as you'd expect him to. Keeping his cool, not giving them any excuse to forcefully remove him from the premises, but he's fucking dying inside.' Gavin winces, and Hank continues on, but he'd noticed, of course he'd noticed. 'You know, that sort of thing.'

'Yeah, that's good. Nines is… he's, you know.' Gavin takes a deep breath, blows it out. Frowns. 'You gotta tell him, I'm alright. Tell him not to worry. It was just one little bullet, okay? He's not getting rid of me that easily.'

'Heh, yeah, because now I'm your personal errand boy.' He pauses, and Gavin closes his eyes, breathing out slowly. 'So, what really happened?'

'It was because of that fucker who's been targeting human-android couples, remember him?'

Like Hank could forget. 'Yeah, the android who couldn't stomach the thought that humans and androids were trying to live together in peace.' There were others, of course, but this guy was some sort of fucking crazy.

It was pretty gruesome on the whole, but Hank had seen much worse in his 30-something odd years of policing. The perp had a specific MO, and had a taste for androids and humans who'd fallen in love. After he got his hands on his victims and removed them to an isolated location, he first incapacitated the android. Without their motor functions, and their internal timer running down, there wasn't anything they could do. He then went about executing the human partner with a quick bullet to the head. After the android's timer ran down, the killer took the time to crack each of his victim's open, removing their hearts and then placing them in their partner's mouth.

So… gruesome, sure, but Hank had still seen worse.

They'd been working on the case for months now, him and Connor as well as Gavin and Nines. The killer didn't strike too often, but after he was done, a lot of blood had been spilled. They'd got a lucky break a few weeks earlier, actually got a clear picture of the killer so they knew who they were after – they hadn't been leaving much evidence, and before that, they hadn't even known if they were looking for a human or an android.

So it was an android, and an angry one, at that. There'd even been some talk about trying to lure him into the with an undercover op but that had gone nowhere. They couldn't get the funding, but the bodies kept piling up.

'Wait – not him, just because of him?'

'Yeah. We got a tip so we went to talk to this witness who wanted to remain anonymous, they were scared for their life. Didn't go anywhere, but fuck, it happens.' Gavin shrugs. 'Connor was waiting in the car – don't look at me like that, he's the one who said he should stay back. Didn't want to freak the dude out we'd gone in to talk to, right?'

'Right.'

'So anyhow, we were leaving. Ran into Frankie Watson, you know him? He's wanted for dealing ice. Probable cause not needed, you could see he was fucking high. So we went after him, split up.'

'You got shot by a fucking junkie?'

'Look, whatever. We were making a little game of it, seeing who could get to him first, but fuck, Frankie sure did run fast. I went the wrong way – '

A game of it? That made sense, Gavin was pretty fucking weird – but what did Hank know, so was he. Still, that probably made Nines feel pretty guilty, if they'd not been treating the situation as seriously as they should have been.

'Wrong way?'

'Wrong way, can you fucking let me finish talking? Damn. Anyhow, it's all fucking stupid, and I got shot, the end. I remember Nines showing up and shooting the fucker… Man, Anderson,' Gavin chuckles, looking a little out of himself, like he wasn't already looking pretty worn out. 'Nines looks really fucking hot when he's holding a gun. Like, Frankie went _down_. I'm pretty sure Nines didn't kill him, but maybe he did, who fucking knows.'

'I'm pretty sure he's alive still, Fowler said something about him getting moved to the station.'

'That's Nines, you know? He's really good at those incapacitating shots. Boom.'

'I get it.'

'Anyhow, it's not Nines's fault I got shot, okay? I went the wrong way. You need to tell him that, alright? I'm gonna be fine. I'm okay.'

'Sure, whatever.'

'And Anderson?'

'What?'

'Just… ugh, you know. Take care of him, or whatever. Don't let him hyper-focus on something he can't actually fix. We got the fucker who shot me, and I'm gonna be fine.'

'Right, of course.'

A different voice chimes in. 'Is everything okay in here?'

Hank looks back over his shoulder. It's a nurse, LED showing blue, and she looks familiar – not in that, all androids of the same model look the same-way, no, it's more like she's had some adjustments done and maybe Hank could have already passed her on the street. Fucking hospital. So they'll employee androids, but they won't let them _visit_ their fucking partner who's been _shot_. Bet they only pay them a fraction of what they pay the human, and even then, there's other fucking intricacies that all equally suck – based on gender, sexuality, color, and whatever else, humans really do know how to be shit to other sentient beings.

Fuck this place specifically. Fucking loopholes. Fucking _humans_.

'Yeah, yeah, it's cool.'

She smiles. 'Alright, Gavin. Remember, visitation ends in five minutes.'

'Oh yeah, thanks.'

She smiles, gives a little bob of her head, and then turns to leave the room.

'I hate this place,' Hank mutters.

'Yeah, so do I,' Gavin yawns. 'But Stacy, she's okay. Pretty… nice. Pretty smile.'

'You sound like you're just about ready to pass out, maybe I should – ' Hank stands up, goes to push his chair back into place, but Gavin grabs onto his arm and jerks him backwards. With a blink, he looks down at the other man, the obvious stress on his face.

'You gotta promise me…'

'What the fuck?'

Gavin tightens his hold, but Hank could break it if he tried.

'Just, promise me, okay. If something did actually…' He wobbles a little. He probably got dosed pretty recently, and now it's just finally starting to hit him. 'If something did actually happen me, you'd take care of Nines, yeah? You're no me but he's… he's fond of you, ya know?'

Hank blinks, then blinks again. Gavin's not big on talking about his own mortality – him getting shot, in his eyes, has been something of a joke, an accident, no big deal whatsoever. But Hank gets that, he gets that a lot. If something happened to him, what the hell would happen to Connor?

'Look, you said it already, you're gonna be fine. I've already been saddled with one weird ass android, I don't need _two_.' He pries Gavin's hand loose, and Gavin sighs, flopping backwards and picking up the bed controller. 'But if it did happen, you know, yeah, of course I would. _We_ would. Connor wouldn't be left out.'

'...thanks.'

Shaking his head, Hank sighs. 'Just… get some fucking rest, okay?'

Gavin doesn't answer him. As the controller slips out of his hand, Hank decides that there's no better time to take his leave.


	2. Chapter 2

He finds himself in the waiting room once more. Nines and Connor aren't standing to the side now, they've taken seats at the back corner of the room. Connor perks up when he sees Hank walking over towards them, but he waits until Hank gets there until he rises to his feet. They'd actually had one hand clasped between them, the skin peeled back, showing off the shiny white beneath.

But he's standing now, and he's no longer holding Nines's hand. The skin has slid back into place. 'How is Gavin doing?'

Nines looks up, blinking. Fuck, his LED is still red.

'He's doing alright, he says. Wants you,' he nods at Nines, 'not to worry, it was just one little bullet, okay? Oh yeah, and that you're not getting rid of him that easily.'

Nines LED flips over to yellow, and he almost smiles, _almost_. 'That sounds like him.'

'I really think he's doing okay. Been there before, getting shot is no fun. But he's a tough fucker, he'll be out of this hellhole in no time.'

Nines stands up, nodding slowly. 'Yes, of course. I… forgive me. I've not been myself.'

Connor puts his hand on Nines's arm. 'Don't apologize, Nines. You've done nothing wrong.'

Hank meets Nines's eyes, and he thinks about what Gavin had said, about the little game they'd made of chasing Frankie down. Stupid, sure, but things like that happen. 'So, you feel like getting out of here?'

Nines frowns, gazing back to the door which led deeper into the hospital, to Gavin. 'Yes,' he says, eventually, 'I do.'

Connor sticks by Nines's side as they exit the building, and Hank shivers at the blast of chilly air. He doubletimes it to the car, noticing plenty of empty spaces much closer to the building now that visiting hours have past. Fuck his fucking luck.

Maybe, on nights like this, an autonomous car seems like a pretty good idea. The car could already be running, the heater on full blast, all because of the touch of a button, far before Hank ever got inside. Another handy dandy button, and he could unlock the door once he was a safe distance away – made it safer like that.

But he still adores his old car, even though it's hardly perfect and it's almost as old as he is, so older than sin. It'll take at least fifteen minutes before the heater gets the air inside to something less than frozen, but Hank's endured it for years now, he'll endure it a few more, until they stop making backwards compatible components and he finally gets forced into buying something more modern.

They pile inside the car, Hank alone in the front seat. Connor is staying close to Nines, a little like he's afraid of him going out of his sight. But Hank gets that, Connor's probably freaking out too, thinking things he rather wouldn't think. If it was Hank in Gavin's place, something like that.

'So,' he says, looking back at the two of them in the rear view mirror, 'where next?'

–  
–

The heat's just gotten to a bearable temperature by the time they pull up to the curb outside Nine's place. Connor's been trying to convince him he's making a mistake, that he shouldn't be alone on a night like this, but Nines is pretty damn insistent when he wants to be, so here they are.

Nines reaches to open the door, and Connor catches it by the hand before it can be closed. He leaves it open before him, LED flashing yellow and blue as he follows Nines up the path, at least until Nines stops. Hank rolls the window down, gets hit by a blast of frigid air. But it's worth it, since now he can hear them.

'Is there a problem I should be aware of, Connor?'

Connor's frowning, and Hank sighs.

'Please, Nines, I still don't think that this is a good idea. You should come home with us.' He looks back at Hank, gives him a _look_. 'Hank, please, tell Nines that this is not a good idea.'

'It's not, but if it's what he wants, we can't force him into having a sleepover.'

'The Lieutenant is correct, Connor.'

Connor sighs, and turns back to face Nines. His LED is flashing yellow and blue, then pure yellow, showing his distress with flickers of red, showing his distress.

But Nines says, voice impassive, 'I'm fine, Connor. If I end up requiring your assistance in any matter, I will send you a message as soon as I can.'

Well, Hank thinks, that would be instan-fucking-taneous then, right?

'Please, go home. It's late, the Lieutenant should get some sleep.'

Connor doesn't look happy at all. 'That's really a low blow, Nines.' It's like he's using Connor's concern for Hank against him, because Nines (and Hank) both know it will work.

'Come on, Connor. Nines is right, and anyway, you really can't make him do something if he doesn't want to. He's his own man, remember?'

Connor's frown tightens, light flashing red for one second – so fast, Hank might have been mistaken. 'Please, Nines,' and he presses in close, wrapping Nines in a hug. The other android stiffens up completely as Connor squeezes him tightly. 'If you need anything, please let me know.' He doesn't relax, he doesn't put his arms around Connor, no, he just stands there, looking a little lost, but his LED is back to yellow so, hey, any progress is good progress. Connor breaks away, and gives him a small smile.

Freedom means plenty. Means you're free to make bad decisions, because you're able to. Hank's sure as fuck done plenty of that in his lifetime, so he understands.

Nines gives a slow nod in return, then turns away from them and, still stiffly, walks towards the front of his apartment building. Hank recalls the last time they came here, what a shift of fucking tone.

What a fucking night it had been, emphasis on _fucking_. He used to actual wonder, did Nines know how to let loose at all? Yes, Hank found out, he really did know how to let loose, and because of that, Hank got to find out for himself just how _good_ it felt, that mouth of his wrapped around Hank's dick. Not that he'd really thought about it before.

Still – _bad Hank_ , _**bad**_. Nines is like, his friend, a co-worker, and also, he's in actual distress. His partner who is also his _partner_ is in the hospital and he's probably having the shittiest night ever. Hank's intrusive thoughts need to fuck right off.

Connor walks over to stand beside the driver's side door, and Hank puts his hand up so Connor can give it a tight, reassuring squeeze. So maybe Connor had a point, and they shouldn't leave Nines by himself. But if he does need either of them, he knows he can ask for pretty much anything, right? So if that happens, he'll get in touch with Connor.

Connor sighs. 'Come on, let's get you something for dinner, and then go home.'

–  
–

Connor puts in the order and they pick up a small ( _small!_ ) pizza from a place along the way, one that was open 24 hours and wasn't exactly Hank's favorite, but at this late hour of the night, Hank really didn't care. Since Connor's driving, Hank eats in silence and, even when he's finished, he doesn't feel like putting the music on.

So, they ride along in a little more silence. Finally, they make it home. Connor tells Hank to relax and settle in, so Hank goes to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable. He comes back out wearing his usual night-time get up, an old shirt over some shorts (both of them are actually new, and not sporting any stains or dubious holes. It hadn't even been Connor who'd nagged him about them, but Hank instead who'd decided it was time for something new).

Connor's in the kitchen, and while he's shed a few layers – well, he took off his jacket and his tie, they're draped over one of the kitchen chairs. He's undone his shirt by the first few few buttons, and rolled his sleeves up – but he's still very obviously stressed. There's something very heavy in the air, something super stressful, and while Sumo wakes long enough to lift his head up and look at the both of them, he gives a low whine and settles his head back down, quickly returning to sleep.

Hank could tell without even glancing at Connor's LED, and anyway, the way he's currently standing, the light is facing the other way. But he wouldn't have been surprised if it was yellow again, or even red.

'Come on,' he says, softly. 'You told me to relax. You should probably consider it too.'

'I don't know what to do.'

'That looks pretty obvious. Come here.'

'Hank, I don't – '

Hank takes Connor by the hand and while Connor blinks at a few times, concerned, he doesn't actually resist it when Hank leads him back over to the table. Sitting down, he draws Connor down after him, letting him slide down onto his lap. 'You're really fucking worried, I get that, but you can't let it consume you.'

Connor lets out a small, miserable sigh. He winds an arm around Hank's shoulder, presses his forehead against Hank's cheek. 'You're right.'

'You feel like talking about it?'

He starts to shake his head, then sighs instead. 'It's all wrong still, and I hate it.'

'I know it, Connor, I know it. Some change is pretty fucking immediate, but for the most part, it's slow-going, one step forward, two steps back, _that_ type of slow. Kind of like treading out into molasses. I fucking hate the stuff.'

Connor huffs against his cheek. 'You're trying to make me laugh.'

'What I'm trying to say is, humans are shitty to other humans all the time. Because of their skin color, their gender, their sexuality, even their religion, or lack thereof. Biases are our bread and butter, but – ' He hates it, all the heavy talk. But he has to let Connor know that he's here for him, the way Connor had been there for Nines all night long. Beyond that, even. 'You know, that fucking hospital? They keep androids on as staff.'

'Fuck them specifically.'

Hank blinks, Connor doesn't often curse.

'So they think we're good enough to be their service tools, but not good enough to – to – '

'Sorry,' Hank mutters, giving Connor a tight squeeze. 'Shouldn't have said that.'

'No, thank you. I'm glad to know, well. I hate it still, actually.'

'I know.'

Connor leans his head to the side, eyes meeting Hank's. Sometimes, the puppy eyes, which get Hank to do almost anything. Now, though, they're sad, and too sharp. Something cold and heavy settles in Hank's chest, and he hates that, too.

'But you changed. You hated androids when we first met.'

'Yeah, but that was pretty…' He squeezes Connor to him, sighing heavily.

'What?'

'I don't really know what I was trying to say, whatever. Just… want to make you feel better, that's it.'

Connor nuzzles against his cheek with his nose, shifting a little on his lap. 'You do. You always do.' That's a fucking lie – Hank's pretty damn skilled at fucking things up, after all, but he's got experience that Connor lacks, and they've had fights about the pettiest bullshit – but then, it did help to clear things up, so they could work towards something more constructive. But Hank knows just how cruel humans can be, he's been on both sides of it.

'I contacted Markus, I – I know he can't actually do anything directly other than work towards more progress, but laws like these… we have to do what we can to change them.'

'That's a good idea, Connor.'

'But, I still don't know what else to do.'

'Maybe get some sleep? It's pretty fucking late.'

'You've eaten too recently,' Connor murmurs. 'You should let yourself digest for at least another half hour, before you go to bed.' He slides off of Hank's lap and smooths down his shirt, with a little smile on his lips as Hank hoists himself back up, hand on the back of the chair.

Hank blinks as Connor offers him his hand, palm down. He takes hold, and Connor tugs him closer. 'There's other things we could do in bed, though. If you'd like.'

Oh. Hank slips an arm around Connor's waist and pulls him close, as Connor tilts against him and hides his face against Hank's chest.

'You don't, uh, really seem to be in the mood for anything like that?'

Connor bumps against Hank with one hip, and lets a hand slide down to toy with the bottom edge of Hank's shirt. 'Sometimes it's more about the destination than it is the journey,' he murmurs, voice muffled against cloth.

Hank's breath hitches as Connor's hand drops lower. 'Con - '

'Please tell me if you don't want to do this.'

'I do,' Hank quickly replies. 'But only if it's what you really want.'

'I do,' Connor exhales, palming against Hank's now growing erection. 'I do. I need you to…' His LED flashes yellow, flashes red, goes blue, all in a fucking whirl. He shakes his head, shaking himself out of a daze. 'I need you to remind me that you are still here.'

It really could have, just as easily, been Hank in Gavin's place. Connor who'd have been the one bereft, unhinged, instead of Nines, who – ah, fuck, Hank groans, as Connor gives him a firmer squeeze. 'Bedroom?' he asks, lifting his head up.

Hank nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. 'Bedroom.'

It's different. Connor hardly gives them time to undress. He's got less to take off, just his shorts, but Connor quickly removes his pants, doesn't even bother folding them, instead tosses them aside. After that, they're quickly moving onto the bed. He pushes Hank so his back is to the headboard, and Hank lets out a little breath as he groans, hands palming down Connor's side to his hips as he climbs astride Hank's lap.

He leans forward, cheek to cheek with Hank, as he fumbles with Hank's dick, stroking him until he's hard enough for what Connor wants. Hank gasps, groaning. 'Aren't you going to – '

He blows his breath out in a loud, ragged huff, as Connor sits back, sinking onto him. ' _Oh_.' Connor leans back into it, letting Hank bottom out in him. Seems tighter than usual, hotter, they've never actually skipped the foreplay before. As unnecessary as it might be, Connor still takes great delight in it, and so does Hank. He likes to open Connor up (or, well, it does happen the other way around). Watch the way his expression changes as Hank moves inside him, the sounds that he makes.

Right now, Connor's riding him, hard, lifting himself up and slamming himself down. In between gasping breaths, Hank asks him if this is, indeed, alright, and Connor tells him, voice shaking, going fuzzy with static, that it is, it is, it's exactly what Connor needs.

So Hank holds on and tries to keep breathing, because Connor isn't really giving him a chance to move. 'Connor, Connor,' he chants, like it's a mantra, as if it's the only thing he really knows.

Connor slows down, hips faltering, but neither of them have come back, and a thin layer of sweat is covering Hank's forehead. Connor leans his brow to Hank's, doesn't mind the mess. 'This isn't working.'

Seems to be working just fine to Hank, but, it's not the right thing to say, he wants to say the right thing. No teasing, just him being fucking sincere, if also a little breathless. 'What do you need?'

Connor draws back, hand shaking – actually shaking – as he caresses Hank's cheek. 'Make love to me?'

They don't use those words, since Hank's not so good at them. They fuck, but there's always heart, whether it's something long and drawn out, or just a quickie – they love each other too much. It Connor wants slow, and gentle, and thorough, Hank can give him what he's capable of – well, even though there's no telling how long he might last.

'Okay.'

Connor shifts upwards, off of him, and Hank helps move him to the side, _carefully_ dumping him because, fuck, when Connor leans into him with all his weight, Hank's reminded that he's not flesh and blood. There's a sturdiness to him that no human possesses, though his skin is impossibly soft.

Connor rolls onto his back, pulls his knees up and spreads his legs. Hank takes a moment to catch his breath, and unbutton his shirt, throwing it aside before moving over so he's kneeling between Connor's legs.

He sits there, strokes his hands down Connor's chest. Connor tilts his head to the side, smiles softly, hair a mess against the striped pillow. 'You want me to make you feel good?' He brushes over Connor's nipples, and he gasps as he bites his lips, pushing _up_.

'Yes, _please_.'

With a smirk, Hank begins to unbutton Connor's shirt. Slides his hands down to the shirt-stays, fingers dragging over smooth skin, and Connor shivers as he lets out a small gasp. He's not actually wearing any underwear, which is something he sometimes does. Treats it like some sort of joke, because he's an android, and he's _free_. Free balling it, that is.

Hank tugs the shirt open, firm presses of his hands to Connor's chest. Faint tremors, the hard thump-thump of his thirium pump. The way his skin glitches out around Hank's hand, showing the smooth chassis beneath before the flesh flows back in.

Connor gives a soft little sigh, soft and sweet. 'Please, Hank, more.'

Hank's all for stretching his boundaries, but not when Connor's acting so fucking delicate. Still… he has an idea. Like many he's had in his life, he's not even sure if it's a good one, but that won't stop him. The worst thing that happens is, Connor says no. 'You feel like turning your skin off?'

Connor blinks up at him, blinks slowly, actually looks a little drowsy. 'What for?'

'Well, you feel more that way, don't you?'

'Well, _yes_. When the skin is in the way, my sensor receptors are somewhat… smothered?'

'Well, maybe you should let them breathe.'

Connor frowns softly, making sense of the metaphor – well, whatever the fuck it is. Then he huffs, shaking his head. 'Okay, if that's what you want.'

'It is,' Hank murmurs in reply, and as the skin-tone fades away, taking with it Connor's freckles and moles, he presses his hands to his chassis, drags his nails against the hard plastic. 'You're beautiful no matter what, okay?'

Bet he'd be blushing right now, if he could. He lets out a little huff, but he's smiling, so that's got to be good. 'I shouldn't believe you, but, you're doing a really convincing job.'

'You are, Con, you are. I love you.'

Hank shifts backwards. Where his fingers had been stroking, he follows after with his lips. 'I'm not… going to… leave you…' He murmurs, in between kisses; he's only got so much control over his own life, but he wants to _live_ , now, because of Connor. Sure, his own mortality will eventually catch up with him, that's just fucking life. But Hank won't leave Connor of his own volition, no, he _won't_.

Connor wriggles underneath him, reaching out to grab at Hank's arms, just barely holding on as Hank moves lower, _lower_. One hand slips into Hank's hair as his mouth hover over Connor's bare cock. Sure, it's a little different looking like this, but the plastic that covers the rest of his body is, here, impossibly smooth, while still being sturdy.

Hank exhales, and the uncovered sensors are so sensitive, Connor shivers and lets out a small, needy moan. ' _Hank_.'

Hank gives the white plastic the slowest of licks, tongue pressed flat. Connor tugs hard on his hair and Hank sinks down, sucking hard as he does. Not gonna hurt himself, no, the plastic – silicon? – he's really not sure what this part of Connor's body is made of, really. Knows he can do some pretty nifty things with it, though, like flip it inwards if he's feeling modest, and he could have it switched out completely if he was felt like trying out a different model. That would have involved a visit to a technician, but Connor's not actually interested in that sort of change, and Hank thinks Connor's perfect already.

Anyhow, Hank's experience with CyberLife employees is pretty fucking limited, and yeah, it's changed since the revolution. Still, who knows what sort of creepy pervert might end up handling Connor's junk. Someone like Elijah fucking Kamski. Yeah, _nope_.

God, Hank, it's not the fucking _time_ – _focus_.

He can only take so much. Connor's dick is long, and just thick enough to fit comfortably in Hank's mouth, heavy on his tongue. It doesn't take long until it's bumping at the back of Hank's throat, and Connor exhales sharply. Hank's easing off, letting himself breathe. Doesn't need to set his gag reflex off.

Fucking androids, what with their lack of one… lucky bastards.

Hank licks and sucks, and lowers himself back down. Connor's making more of those soft, needy sounds as Hank swallows him whole, tries to make Connor feel even half as good as Connor's always making him feel.

He grazes his teeth along the sensitive surface that isn't actually skin, and Connor cries out, hips bucking and driving his dick deeper into Hank's mouth. Hank coughs around it, tears stinging his eyes. 'Hank!' Connor wails. 'Oh, oh, oh,' static interrupts his voice. 'I'm s-sorry – '

Hank draws back with a pop, 'no need to apologize, Con.' He smirks up at Connor, who's breathing hard, thirium pump beating like a fucking drum, his fans whirring deep inside, trying to keep him cool.

He licks his lips, and Connor whimpers. 'Hank, please.'

Hank rearranges himself, on his knees again in between Connor's legs. He reaches down, strokes his slick cock, lets the hand drop further – Connor whines – and brushes at Connor's hole, still a little open from before, leaking slick stuff.

'God, you really want this. Tell me how badly you want it.'

'I just – I need you – to be inside me, now, _please_. I need it, I need it, _I need **you**_.'

When Connor puts it like that, how can Hank say no?

–  
–

Hank wakes suddenly, and instead of the usual – Connor cuddled up close, usually the big spoon to Hank's little one – Connor is sitting up in bed, his light a steady yellow, eyelashes fluttering.

'Con?' Hank grumbles, still half asleep. He shoots a look over at the time on the alarm clock and absolutely balks at the time – it's just past two in the fucking morning, no wonder he feels like crap. He's hardly had any sleep at all, and they'd been up pretty late.

'It's nothing, Hank. Go back to sleep.'

'S'nothing, then why are you awake?'

'I received a message from Nines, he… I need to go and pick him up. He'd been standing outside the hospital and now it's started to rain, he doesn't know what else to do. I'm worried for him.' He pauses, and the silence is heavy. 'I'm worried they might call the police.'

'He _is_ the police,' Hank sighs.

'Yeah, but we are still capable of breaking the law. Please, Hank,' Connor presses a quick kiss to his lips, and Hank reaches over to brush his fingers through Connor's hair. 'I won't be long, but I'm bringing him back here. I hope that's okay.'

'Not like you're actually asking for permission, Connor. You know it's okay, bring him on over. I'll…' He's more awake now than he'd really like to be. 'I'll go get the fold-out bed ready, you just try not to speed.'

Connor smiles at him as Hank flips on the light, pulling on a shirt and looking around the room, trying to figure out where his shorts had been tossed.

It doesn't take Hank long to get the bed ready, and he doesn't even know if Nines sleeps the way Connor likes to, but hell, he's just being a good host, and _fuck_ , Nines own bed was pretty fucking big. He probably didn't just have sex in it, right?

Sumo whines, and Hank pats his head. 'Yeah, buddy, I know. I'd rather be sleeping. You need to go out?'

 _Out_ is another one of Sumo's favorite words. He barks and Hank smirks at him, jerks his head towards the back door. 'Come on then, let's get this done.'

He switches on the back porch light and Sumo darts out into the yard. The sky's clear, but the grass is still damp. If it's raining where Nines is, it probably already rained here. Hell, maybe Hank shouldn't have let Sumo romp about in the back yard.

Well, too late for that. He fetches a towel from the laundry room and tosses it onto the kitchen table. Connor's jacket and tie are still hanging over the one chair, and Hank goes over to it, stops, strokes the fabric with one hand. He doesn't know why Connor still wears the CyberLife get up, he doesn't belong to CyberLife anymore. But he does still like the uniform, for whatever reason. Nines tends to still wear his, and as far as he's existed, he never even knew what CyberLife was really like.

He looks up when he hears the key turning in the lock. He moves away from the kitchen and waits in the living room, beside the couch, as Nines and Connor enter the house. Connor is taking off the hoodie he'd been wearing, and hangs it up on the hook beside Hank's coat, letting it air dry.

'Hey, Nines. Good to see you.' Well, that's most assuredly awkward as fuck. _Sorry you've got to be here and all, since your partner got shot._.

Their eyes meet, gray on blue, and Nines gives the subtlest of nods, hardly even moving. Connor put a hand on his arm, light, but Nines seemed to waken some at the touch, and goes further into the room, at least a few steps. Hank squints. 'You're kind of…' He gestures at Nines, pretty vaguely. 'Wet.'

There's a faint twitch at the corner of Nines's mouth. It's Connor who says, with no hint of irony, and only a little bit of sarcasm, 'He _was_ caught in the rain, please try to keep up. I tried to talk him into stopping by his place before coming here, at least so he could pick up some dry clothing. He insisted that it wouldn't be necessary.'

Hank chuckles, shaking his head. 'Yeah, of course. I'll grab a few towels.' He probably should have thought about that sooner, but at the time, he was pretty busy thinking about everything else.

There wasn't much to show, there never was, but the fold-out bed was ready for him and Sumo was still in the back yard. Hank puts the folded towels down on the back of the sofa, notes that Nines and Connor haven't moved. Water is pooling about Nines's feet, and Hank sighs. Connor will probably sort with that, it's no big fucking deal.

'You guys okay?' Connor nods, and Hank takes it at face value. 'Alright. I'm gonna go see if Sumo feels like coming in. He loves meeting new people.'

Nines, looking a little lost, stands where he'd stopped and Connor frowns at him. Hank guesses they're talking without actually _talking_ , but there's a lot of emotional bullshit in the air and Hank's not too sure how much he wants to be a part of it. He's thankful for the quiet.

Quiet that ends as soon as Sumo comes back into the house. Sumo boofs happily as Hank lets him into the kitchen, tail wagging as he prances about on the tile. 'Hey, come on, buddy, let me try to clean off some of that mud.'

Sumo's pretty placid, for the most part, and Hank's allowed to towel off his legs in exchange for getting Sumo's tongue in the face. Seems fair enough, by Hank's reckoning.

After that, he tosses the towel to the side (he'll get it later, no worries), and rubs Sumo's head. 'See? That didn't hurt.'

'Boof!'

From the direction of the living room, there's the bright sound of Connor's laughter, and some of Hank's tension eases the fuck right off.

'Sumo! Come meet Nines.' At the sound of Connor's cheerful voice, Sumo's head perks up and he romps on into the living room with a couple of happy barks. Hank watches with a sort of bemusement as Sumo jumps up and knocks into Connor, big fluffy paws resting on his shoulders. Paws that aren't actually absolutely clean, so Connor's not gonna be wearing that shirt tomorrow, nope.

'Sumo!' Connor laughs, and Nines turns his head slightly, brow furrowing as he Sumo attacks with licks and barks. 'Nines, this is Sumo. Sumo, meet Nines!' He goes on to tell Sumo how Nines is a RK900 unit, serial #313 248 317 - 87, and how he was actually meant to replace Connor but then CyberLife fell and how he and Nines are now friends. Sumo's got no idea what's being said, but he barks a few more times, just happy to be a part of the 'conversation'. Also, he's getting plenty of pets.

Hank grabs the towel, then takes hold of the nearest chair to help pull himself back up. He wanders in the direction of all the action in the living room, smiling because he can.

Nines actually blinks, then extends a hand towards the dog. Sumo drops down heavily and sniffs at Nines's hand and, deciding that he likes the smell of it, nudges his head up against it. With the smallest smile ever, Nines starts petting his hand through the soft fur of Sumo's head.

'Gavin is a cat person,' he murmurs – Hank isn't surprised. He doesn't really like them or not like them, but it's not much of an issue. As long as Sumo's around, they're definitely not getting a cat. 'But Sumo seems very nice.'

Sumo, in agreement, barks at him, and Hank grins.

'Well, if we're all settled in, I'm gonna go back to bed now. If that's okay?'

'Yes, please, Lieutenant. Thank you for your hospitality.'

'I'll join you in a short while,' Connor tells him, and Hank nods. He goes over to give Connor a kiss on the cheek, and he makes eye contact with Nines – not that it's happened on purpose. Nines tilts his head sideways, expressing his curiosity in a very obvious way. Hank, for whatever reason, blinks, his throat going a bit dry.

'You want a kiss too?' He probably only meant it as a joke, and they work together, Nines is familiar with his awful fucking sense of humor. But they've never actually kissed before, and Hank's actually thought about it _a lot_. Mostly the night of the double date, yeah, but even a few times since then.

But instead of laughing at him, or calling him out on his bullshit, Nines tilts his head back the other way, face passive as he says, 'Yes, please.'

Hank blinks and looks sideways at Connor, who's got a knowing look on his face. He gives Hank a push forward, and Hank acts without thinking about it too much – because if he gets caught up in his head, he's going to freeze. He presses an equally chaste kiss to Nines's cheek, the skin that's still a bit damp, the android's LED flashing yellow then blue.

'That'll do, for now.'

'I'm just,' Hank shivers, _fuck_ , 'gonna go to bed now, okay?'

He doesn't wait for either of them to give him the go ahead, but he's still left feeling like he's just been made to _run away_ and _hide_ , and in his own damned house. He tosses the damp towel into the hamper, and climbs back into bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite the worry that he wouldn't be able to shut his head off and he wouldn't get any more sleep, Hank rouses as Connor slips into the bed, feels the warm pressure of a kiss at the juncture of jaw and ear, and sighs softly as Connor's arms take their place around him, as Connor presses in close. He wakes again in the morning, groggy and a little out of sorts, with himself, with the world, and all he wants to do is go back to sleep. There's still a few minutes until his alarm goes off, and Hank lazes, drifting in and out, until all he can hear is the beeping buzz of the alarm, drilling into his skull.

The folding-bed has been tucked back in, but Nines and Connor are in the kitchen. Hank rubs at his eyes, takes a few steps closer. Connor sighs, shaking his head, his hands set on his hip in a show of annoyance. '...Nines, please, is isn't necessary. Try to relax.'

'I've nothing else to do, Connor,' Nines replies. 'I want to help.'

'But Nines – '

'Connor, _please_. You and the Lieutenant have opened your house to me, it's the very least I can do.'

Connor frowns, though it fades when he catches sight of Hank. 'Good morning, Hank.'

'Morning,' Hank grumbles in reply. He glances over at Nines. 'How'd you sleep?'

'I do not sleep, per se, but…' Yeah, yeah, Hank's heard that all from Connor, but he knows about the upgrades available, the ones that Connor ended up downloading and installing because he was interested in the _human experience_. Hank doesn't know if Nines has those same hang ups. He's never had a chance to ask. '...but it was nice enough.'

'Nines took Sumo on a walk. Now, he's saying he wants to help me with breakfast.' Connor gives him a _look_ , and Hank turns it back on him: what's the big deal?

'Yeah, Connor used to do that bullshit too back when he first started living here, but you know, whatever.' Hank waves his hand, pretty vaguely. 'You're a guest, Nines. Just relax, and let Connor do what he wants. It's easier that way.' Hank huffs, because Connor loudly sighs and shakes his head.

Nines LED was processing, and Connor huffs. ' _Hank_. You're supposed to be on my side.'

'What? Look, I'm gonna go take a shower. It's too early for this.'

But he hears them as he starts to leave, Connor's low voice hissing at Nines, '….told you so.' Told him _what_? Fucking androids.

Once he's safe inside the bathroom, he shuts the door behind him, and leans back against it, tries to get his breathing under control. Nines being there shouldn't make him feel so out of fucking sorts. But it's not actually a bad feeling? It's really almost pleasant, the sort of thing Hank could get used to, if he just stopped thinking about it and let himself cut loose.

A few minutes later, he shoves himself away from the door and stops in front of the mirror. He probably should get his hair trimmed soon, but he doesn't know what Connor would say about that. He's plenty fond of playing with Hank's hair whenever he gets the chance, and Hank's enough of a fucking sap to know that making Connor happy, whatever it takes, is really the only thing he wants in this world.

There's a new post it note, from Connor, underneath one of Hank's older ones, and oldy but a favorite: the one that says _Keep smiling_ , he's had to rewrite it countless times since he first put it up, something to do with all of the moisture in the bathroom. The one from Connor says, in handwriting that's less stiffly formal than it used to be, back when Connor was newly deviant: _I love your smile_

Which makes Hank smile, and he shakes his head. Yeah, he's a major fucking sap.

Maybe he should have grabbed something to wear before he'd hidden himself away in the bathroom, because now it might look a little suspicious if he leaves and then quickly comes back. Hell, he'll just deal with it when he has to deal with it. If he gets spotted naked, whatever, it _is_ his house. He doesn't get why he feels so _off_.

He doesn't plan on taking too long in the shower, but the water is just hot enough, and sometimes, the plans that get made end up changing just because they can. Hank feels the water waking him up, and he takes the time to thoroughly wash his hair and use the conditioner than makes his hair super soft, one that Connor had purchased for him. Yeah, Connor's definitely got a thing for his hair. Still, a trim is needed. They'll have to talk about it, maybe after Nines goes back home.

All in all, after he's dressed and ready to face the day, he's still somewhat surprised to see Nines and Connor working side by side when he walks back into the kitchen, though it does look like breakfast is almost done. Hank shakes his head, biting back a laugh.

'Hey, I thought Connor won that argument. Weren't you supposed to sit your ass down and relax?'

'We debated it further and Nines managed to _convince me_ ,' Connor sighs. 'And you say I'm stubborn.'

Hank huffs. 'Well, that's what you deserve, getting a taste of your own medicine.'

Connor smiles at him, he knows what Hank means.

Breakfast consists of a Southwestern omelet, minus any meat, with a side of hash browns (his fucking favorite, okay), and a glass of orange juice to accompany his coffee – and, like always, the coffee is hot, black, with just the slightest dash of sugar. It's kind of weird that, after he's finished with the dishes (if he really wants to do it, Hank feels _bad_ telling him not to), Nines sits down to watch him eat. Which, Hank knows, that _shouldn't_ be weird, since Connor's the one who's usually sitting in his place. But Connor's gone to the bedroom to get changed for work, it's just the two of them, and Sumo, who's snoozing beside his bowl.

'So, you got any plans?'

'I'll try to keep myself occupied, somehow.' Nines's LED spins yellow as he contemplates whatever, and Hank takes a few more bites of his food. 'The Captain insists I take the next few days off, until Gavin is released from the hospital. I thought it was best to agree with him instead of make it some sort of fight. I… I want Gavin to come home.' That last bit, it's spoken very softly. Nines looks absolutely heartbroken.

'I was not… I don't know. I suppose, if you'd like, we can talk about it later? I really don't know what to say.' And he's still frowning, must not like how that makes him feel.

'Yeah, that's the fun of being human. Told Connor once that emotions, all they do is screw everything up.'

'That is…' Another frown, a firmer tightening of his lips. 'Perhaps so? But I suppose it is better to feel something, than nothing at all.'

'And _that's_ the joy of being deviant. You get to feel whatever the fuck you feel like, and no one can boss you around and tell you that you can't, that you're just a fucking machine – you got it?'

The corner of Nines's mouth quirks up as he grins. 'Got it, Lieutenant.'

'Ah, for fuck's sake, it's like trying to talk sense to Connor. _Hank_ , you call me Hank. You're sleeping on my couch, that's a fucking order.'

'But if you're not acting as my lieutenant, why should I follow your orders?'

Hank blinks, then throws his head back, laughs. 'Fucking smartass.'

'I suppose that's what I get for spending so much time around Gavin. I…' He looks a little wistful, smiling softly – at least for a moment, until his face smooths over completely, expression going blank. 'Everything that's wrong with me, I suppose it's his fault.'

Silence falls, and Hank goes back to eating his food. After he's cleaned the plated, scraped the last bits up with the edge of his fork, he pushes back from the table and starts to stand up. When Nines reaches over to take his plate, Hank snatches it quickly and scowls at him.

' _No_. Bad android, you washed up the other ones already. This one is mine.'

Nines smiles, but Hank feels like he's just being humored because it makes life a whole lot easier – Connor does it too – and hell, that's perfectly okay. Without a hint of emotion in his voice, Nines then says, 'Yes, Hank, of course.'

Hank finishes at the sink, after putting the dishes in the rack to air dry. Nines gets up, and walks into the living room, stooping down by the couch and picking up a bag. He heads back over to Hank, said bag in hand. 'Could I ask a small favor of you, Hank?'

'A favor? Yeah, sure, whatever.'

'At some point today, before you come home, do you think you could… stop by the hospital, and visit Gavin for a while? Tell him that I…' He pauses, struggling with the words. 'That I look forward to his recovery, and him coming home again. Also, I got him a little something, to help him pass the time.'

Hank takes the bag, but doesn't feel too incredibly nosy. He doesn't peek inside. 'Like what?'

'Oh, some crossword puzzles. It's really nothing much.'

Hank huffs, smiling. 'I'm sure he'll still love it, since it came from you.'

Nines hesitates, actually looks nervous. 'I _hope_ so.' _Yearning_.

'You've gotta give yourself more credit, man.'

'Perhaps you're right.'

'So, uh, that's all you need?'

'It is. Are you sure you don't mind?'

'I'm pretty sure I don't mind, otherwise I wouldn't have agreed.'

'I've noticed that humans sometimes say one thing while meaning another.' His LED flashes yellow, but then it slides back over to blue. 'I was not sure if that was what this was… my apologies.' Then Nines smiles, bright and sincere. Fuck, it's a really nice smile.

'God, Nines, it's really nothing. Just… try not to think about it too much?' Maybe Hank doesn't fully get why Nines feels what he does for Gavin, but it's not like Hank still didn't struggle with what _Connor_ saw in _him_ , sees in him, every fucking day.

'Still, I appreciate it.'

'Appreciate what?'

As Connor comes into the kitchen, having taken his sweet fucking time (he looks good, though, Hank's not actually complaining), Nines pushes his chair back, stands. 'I've asked Hank to stop by the hospital sometime today, and relay a message to Gavin.'

'Couldn't you call him? Not that I'm saying Hank shouldn't visit him for your sake, there's nothing wrong with that. But certainly there must be a phone in his room?'

Nines frowns, shrugging. 'I don't… like… phones, much. And neither does Gavin.'

'What about texting him?'

Nines blinks, not that he even needs to. 'Oh, well, yes, I suppose I… fuck.'

Hank blinks, since Nines cursing is about as rare as Connor doing the same thing. 'What was that?' Connor asks, standing close to Hank.

'I don't know, it doesn't matter, I can't text him. Please, you should leave now, if you want to get to work on time.' Nines's shoulders stiffen, and he turns and walks straight into the living room, taking a seat on the couch.

Hank glances at Connor, and Connor glances back at Hank. What the hell was _that_?

–  
–

Hank gets a chance to figure out what's bugging Nines (well, what _else_ is bugging him, that is) after getting to work, and spending some time out chasing leads, and then getting back, and dealing with an overabundance of paper work, is that when Gavin was shot, he fell, of fucking course, and he landed in such a way that his phone _broke_.

Hank actually laughs. What an actual crock of shit. How ridiculous is _that_? Probably karma's way of telling Gavin he spends too much time fucking around on his phone, especially when he was supposed to be doing something else, like, _work_. Sure, Gavin was plenty ambitious, he'd been chasing that promotion for years now, never quite getting what he wanted. But he always made time to goof off on his phone.

Not that Hank really felt all that bothered by it, because when it came down to the wire, said work did get done. Gavin was, perhaps, actually a good cop, but Hank's not gonna go and tell him that, for fuck's sake.

But still, it makes sense, Gavin's broken phone, and why Nines wouldn't want to talk about it, maybe even think about it.

–  
–

At the end of the day, though, Hank's absolutely forgotten about stopping by that fucking hospital in order to see Gavin – outside the station, as the sky clouds over and time slips sideways, Connor's happy to remind him. 'Shit,' Hank exhales, softly, rubbing at the nape of his neck. 'I'd totally forgotten that was a thing I was going to do.'

Connor sighs, shaking his head, but there's a hint of a smile on his lips, and there's that bag that Nines had handed Hank that morning which, surprise surprise, he'd also fucking forgotten.

'No one, anywhere, could possibly have expected that this might happen.'

'Fucker,' Hank laughs, and at that, Connor really smiles brightly.

'Guilty as charged,' Connor smirks. He hands the bag over, and Hank takes it.

'Okay, well – uh, I could drop you off at home first – '

'There's no need for that, Hank, you'd only waste time. I've already called for a cab, it will be here shortly.' He grabs Hank's hand, well, the one not holding the bag of stuff for Gavin, and Hank's heart goes pitter patter, pitter patter, like a fucking sledgehammer in his chest. Connor sighs, wistful as anything. 'I'd really like to kiss you, but this probably isn't the ideal location.' He smiles again, but sadly this time, and Hank swallows down the sudden lump in the throat that is his erratically beating heart.

'Yeah, I get that. So, uh, you're really okay with taking a cab?' Because if Connor tells him he wants a lift, then Connor will certainly be getting a lift.

'I am completely okay with getting a cab. I'll see you when you arrive home, Hank.' He gives Hank's hand another squeeze, smiling softly. A kiss really would have been nice, or even a hug, but they stand like that as the seconds tick on by, as the autonomous cab pulls up. Connor gives him one last squeeze, then pulls his hand away.

'My ride is here, Lieutenant. I will see you at home?'

'Yeah,' Hank replies, throat feeling rough. 'You will. Say hi to Nines for me, and you two stay out of trouble, alright?'

Connor smirks as he turns away. 'Now that's a promise I simply can't make.'

–  
–

Hank gets lucky and is able to park less than five hundred miles away from the hospital (sarcasm); but still, he's a lot closer than he'd been the night before. And the weather is much nicer, it isn't quite as cold as fucking hell.

He goes through the motions of getting signed in, and sticks his name tag on. Still hates the hospital, still hates the elevator ride up to the second floor, still fucking hates the shitty human staff when he rounds a corner and finds an orderly looming in front of one the nurses, backing her up against the wall. He's taller than her, broader in the shoulders, and maybe she could break him in two if she really wanted to because Hank realizes it's the nurse from Gavin's room, the one from the day before. But beyond all that, it's obvious to Hank that his attentions towards are completely unwanted.

Her head's turned away as he breathes all over her, her LED flashing red. 'Please, Tom,' she murmurs, and Tom laughs. Rage coils in Hank's gut, and he pulls out his badge.

'Do we have some sort of fucking problem?'

The orderly balks at Hank as he shoots a look over to the right, getting an eyeful of his badge. 'Androids do actually count as people now, you piece of fucking shit. That's textbook sexual harassment, and if she wanted, she could have your job.'

The orderly, _Tom_ , stumbles back and then turns away, power-walking away from them. Hank sighs, and pockets his badge. The nurse is watching him cautiously, her LED whirling yellow. He remembers her name then, it's Stacy. Yeah, Gavin was right – as she smiles at him, tentatively, it really is a pretty smile.

'Thank you. Tom doesn't know how to take no for an answer.'

'Yeah, well, human men are pieces of shit. Tom needs to learn his lesson before someone else teaches him a new one.'

She tilts her head to the side, somewhat curious. 'I hope this…' Yellow, red, yellow again.

'Look, here, uh,' he digs his wallet out, and gives her one of his horribly underutilized business cards. Connor insisted on having them ordered for him, for those times when information needed to quickly exchange hands – he wasn't an android, after all, couldn't just interface and pass the info on. Like he could forget, he thinks about it a lot, and how he'll always be lacking. 'This has all my contact info on it, alright? If the hospital tries to come down on you for this, you get in touch with me, okay? We can throw some discrimination charges at them on top of everything else.'

She takes the business card, and holds it with both of her hands. 'I will. Thank you, Lieutenant Anderson.'

'Sure, it's no problem. Just, don't forget. Human men are shit.'

' _You're_ a man, a human one at that. And yet, I already feel like I can trust you.'

'Yeah, well, exceptions do occur, I guess.' He knows he's pretty shitty, anyhow, he doesn't need to unload all of that on her. She doesn't deserve it, on top of all the other bull she deals with. When exactly did he become such an android rights activist? Yeah, probably when it became obvious that they were people too, people that the humans had been taking gross advantage of for years and fucking _years_. Also, he fell in love with one of them, so that really did help him to open his eyes.

'Just, call, if you need to, okay?'

'I will. Again, thank you.'

He gives her a little wave as she goes off to do her job, and Hank takes a deep breath as he starts down the hall towards Gavin's room.

A minute or so later, Hank taps on the door and gives it a little push inwards, leaning onto it as it slowly opens onto Gavin's room. 'Hey, you awake?'

'Ah, my fucking wishes have come true. A fucking disaster of a human being has come to rescue me from this dismal fucking place.'

Hank snorts, and leaves the door slightly open behind him. 'Yeah, hello to you too.'

He moves the chair closer to the bed, like usual, setting the bag down to the other side of it, and Gavin sits up and jams a few pillows back behind him. There's a tray on the other side of the bed, with food that looks like it's been picked at – no matter the medical advances they might come up with, the food at hospitals still tastes like shit.

Gavin groans. 'I want to go home already, but the fuckers are insisting I stay a little bit more.'

'You got shot, you're no spring chicken, you're like, what, thirty-seven?' Fuck, Hank feels _old_. But he doesn't feel it, always, he's in a lot better shape – because of Connor, because he wanted some more change in his life, something good. 'So rest up while you're able to.'

Gavin throws his head back and laughs, really laughs, and Hank blinks, struck by what a nice laugh he has, and fuck, fuck, _fuck_. What a thing to go and think. 'Well, it's true.'

'Whatever, old man.'

'Hey, uh, got a message from your android. Boyfriend. Whatever!'

Gavin straightens up at that. 'Uh, oh?'

'He's, uh, staying at our place until you get out of here. He's fucking lost without you, okay?'

'What, that's the message?'

'No, that's just the fucking preface, don't you ever shut up? Anyhow, what he said was, uh, was that he looks forward to your recovery? And you coming back home again.'

Gavin looks away, but not quick enough. There's a hot blush on his face, and it actually makes Hank smile. 'Are you allergic to affection or something?' It's kind of cute, actually, ha ha ha, _nope_.

' _No_ ,' Gavin hisses out, rubbing at his cheek. 'Just, like, there's no reason for him to say shit like that, it's no big deal.'

'Yep, allergic as fuck. And hey, it's a big deal to him, you need to respect that.'

'Oh, fuck you.'

'Fuck you!' Hank shoots back, laughing.

Gavin grins. 'Thanks for stopping by. Tina dropped by earlier on, but I guess now that they know I'm gonna be alright, no one else actually gives a fuck. Which is, I know, what I get for being such a lovable fucking asshole.'

'Choice words, I suppose.'

'Ha fucking ha. I guess you…' Gavin sinks back against his pile of pillows, tongue sliding across his lower lip. 'Guess you probably wanna head home now, yeah?'

'I mean, it probably won't kill me to sit here a little while longer.'

'Alright.'

'Okay.'

So of course it would have to get awkward. They sit a while in silence, the most uncomfortable sort, with Gavin pulling at the edge of blanket with one hand, biting his lip. 'I gotta ask you something,' he says, out of the blue.

'Uh, what?'

Gavin grimaces. 'Nines is… Nines is special, okay? Special to me. I don't know why he likes me and I sure as hell don't feel like I deserve it, but – but he still sticks around, I don't _get it_. And I…' He trails off, hesitating.

Hank leans to one side, leaning against the arm of the chair. 'Yeah, and what do you expect me to do about it?'

Gavin sighs, it's pretty fucking pitiable. But it's a different Gavin than Hank's used to seeing, and he's not really sure what to do with it. He lets go of the blanket with a sigh. 'Just… take care of him, okay? If he asks for anything… give it to him.' He stares at Hank, _hard_ , like he's trying to be fucking obvious, but Hank's just as obviously missing the point.

Hank blinks, shrugs with one shoulder. 'I'm not really getting what you're saying here, Gavin. I'm not even sure I want to.'

Gavin gives him a look of pure disgust. 'Don't let him stress out and fry his processors or something, okay? He's not really good at expressing himself, some emotions are harder than others and I don't want him to fucking fixate on something that's out of his hands.' Another sigh, just as disgusted – honestly, Hank's getting some pretty mixed signals. 'Just – take care of him, it doesn't matter how you do it. You can make a game of it with your plastic fucking twink-bot, I really don't _care_.'

Hank blinks, because he suddenly does _get_ it – _oh_. Still, Gavin doesn't have to be a bitchy little fuck about it. 'Be rude to Connor, that's sure as hell gonna make me wanna help you out.'

He groans, back to looking pitiable. 'Come on, Anderson. I'm fucking stressed.'

'I get that, but you're also being a massive dick, and I've seen yours so I know you're over-compensating.'

Gavin growls as he blushes all over, and Hank can't even appreciate it all that much because he's blushing himself, hot at the tips of his ears. Gavin grabs for the blanket again, needs something to fidget with. 'Just… sorry, okay? _Please_. Take care of Nines for me, until I can take care of him myself.'

'I'm not even sure you could take care of a cat.' Gavin growls at that and leans forward, like he means to get out of bed. Almost as if there was a _line_ that he was waiting for Hank to cross, and Hank's shit out of luck because he's gone and crossed it. Hank, though, simply puts a hand on Gavin's shoulder, pressing him back down. Gavin goes with a little huff, and not a lot of protest. Hank tries not to think about what that means, he's deep enough in to know everything means _something_. 'Look, I got it. We'll look after Nines, whatever it takes. You just focus on getting out of here, okay? I said it already, he misses you.'

'Whatever,' Gavin sighs, as he flops backwards into the pillows, looking washed out and tired. 'I miss him too.' It's muttered so softly, maybe Gavin hadn't meant for him to hear it.

'Maybe I should…' Hank, feeling the awkwardness down to his fucking toes, bumps against something with his right foot, and suddenly remembers the bag from Nines, the stuff he was supposed to give to Gavin. 'Oh yeah, long fucking day, sorry. Nines got you some stuff.' He leans over to pick the bag off, sets it down on the bed beside Gavin.

Gavin blinks, looks a little less tired. 'Oh?' He grabs the bag, looks in it, actually smiles. 'The fucking shit, he didn't have to do anything like that. But I guess it'll make my life here a little less like actual living hell.' Then, quietly, 'thanks for bringing it.'

'Yeah, it's no fucking problem.'

–  
–

'Welcome home, Hank.'

Nines is sitting on the couch, looking back over his shoulder as Hank shrugs out of his coat, hangs it up on the hook beside the door. He's got his dark, long-sleeved shirt on, and those slacks of his that are too damned sleek. Hank, when he's spending time at home, prefers to be cozy – so does Connor, for the most part.

Right now, though, Hank doesn't really know what to do, other than look in the vague direction of Nines, as Nines looks back at him, expression curious. Gavin really couldn't have imagined that his request was actually some sort of godsend. As if he shouldn't try harder to keep out the intrusive thoughts re Nines, but _fuck_. If Gavin's okay with it then that means Nines is okay with it, too, so why hadn't Nines said something yet?

He should probably say something, right? They've just been staring at each other for a few minutes now, though it's only awkward on Hank's part. 'Hey – where's Connor?'

'He's out taking Sumo for a walk. I told him that I would be glad to do it for him, but he thought it best that at least one of us was here, so you could properly be welcomed home.'

'Properly?' Hank raises an eyebrow at that.

Nines's smile looks perfectly innocent, so maybe that's why Hank's sure that something is up. Yeah, Nines is in the know. 'Alright then. Let me go change into something more comfortable. Uh. Fuck, you know, whatever.'

Nines turns away, chuckling softly. 'Yes, I think I do.'

But he stops, just to say. 'Oh, I figured out what happened to Gavin's phone.'

Nines sighs, and frowns. 'You understand my frustration, then?'

Hank gives a laugh of his own. 'Yeah, I do.' Anyhow, it's not like him and Gavin don't have that preference for texting over talking on the phone in common, or anything. Hell.

So of course, while Hank's digging around in the bedroom for something to change into to, he's thinking about what Gavin asked him, and now he's pretty damn sure he's got at least some idea of what's going on inside Nines's head. He's feeling lonely. He needs… something. And they've kind of done this before anyhow, right? Only it was a lot different, since Gavin was there too.

Shirt and shorts in order, Hank heads back into the hall, only for Nines to stop him, and edge him back against the wall – God, he's just suddenly _there_ , right in Hank's face, the icy gray of his eyes and all of the freckles on his face.

Back meets wall and Hank's acutely aware of his brain flipping over inside his skull. Orange peel texture, that's what Clara had wanted, _hell_ , he hadn't actually thought about her in months. He sees her once a year, like clockwork, for Cole's anniversary, and actually he'd been pretty damn surprised when she wasn't only okay with Connor, she really did seem to like him. Maybe she was the one who dealt with everything better, knew that accidents happened, no matter how fucking awful they could really be, and even Gavin had – 

He shuts his eyes, tightly. Fuck, he hated the color she picked, but he's never fucking changed it. Maybe he should have, maybe he shouldn't, maybe he needs to – 

'Hank?'

Hank blinks, he hadn't even noticed he'd shut his eyes. Nines's face looms in front of his, concern softening all the edges of his features. 'Your stress levels are very high, I'm sorry for having – ' He begins to step back, but Hank grabs his arm and holds onto him, holds him right there.

'Sorry, just, you don't have to be sorry, I fucking – started thinking about something I shouldn't have.'

Nines's laughs softly. 'I do understand that. So this is… alright?' He presses in a little closer, licking at his lips. 'I want you to know that I want you, Hank.'

Hank nods, and guesses, yeah, this must be what being brain dead feels like.

'Hank, please. Use your words. I need to _know_. Is this alright?'

Fuck, but if that doesn't remind him of Connor in the thick of things. 'Yeah,' he gasps, hoarsely. 'Yeah, it's alright.'

So he edges in a little closer, and Hank's still pressed against the wall. Nines leans in a little bit closer, his nose brushing against Hank's, and now they're eye to eye. For as imposing as he can be, for as little as he sometimes says, Hank almost always forgets that Nines is actually a little bit shorter than him, a little taller than Connor. And he's close, so close, Hank could kiss him if he wanted to, but that – no, that's another line, right there, and as much as he _wants_ it, he's not ready to cross it right yet.

Nines tilts his head sideways, his LED is visible – yellow, yellow, _processing_. The moment _clicks_ , and Hank gasps softly. Nines is so close, he's perfectly aware of his ambient body heat, sinking through the thin layer of clothing Hank happens to be wearing. He's waiting for something, waiting on Hank.

And Hank says, as steadily as he can, 'I need you to tell me what you want.'

Nines huffs out softly, a sound of irritation. 'I know it is not possible for me to not feel, at all – but, I don't want to have to think any more, Lieutenant. Please.'

'Not sure if we can arrange that,' Hank murmurs. 'Gavin was pretty explicit when he stated he didn't want you frying your processors.'

'This is hardly the same thing.' Nines leans his head the other way, lips shifting in the subtlest of smirks. 'That said, I'm sure, if you and my predecessor work together, you can figure something out.'

A beat – _Connor_. 'I have to…' He licks his own lips, and he keeps flashing back to how he could just press forward into what's left of Nines's personal space and kiss him, just kiss him, fuck, there's nothing there stopping him – except, well, Connor. 'We have to talk to him, alright? Gavin's given me the go ahead already, but I guess you're aware of that in your own fucking way. And I get it, you're up to get down, but Connor doesn't actually have any idea what's going on.' Hank pauses, blinks, _wonders_. 'I mean, unless he does, and I've been fucking blind.'

 _You two stay out of trouble, alright?_ , he'd said, and Connor had smirked, _Now that's a promise I simply can't make._. No, no, _no_. Whatever Connor might have said, Hank knows he wouldn't just do this without making sure Hank was perfectly okay with it. What with his shitty self esteem and endless self doubt, there's no _doubt_ , and yeah, it's completely different from when him and Nines had started making out in the back seat of that autonomous cab. That was a game, a set up, something all four of them could do. But this is – this is _not_ , it's different.

Nines lets out a soft chuckle, his face just as soft. He steps back and Hank can finally move away from the wall. 'No, I've not spoken to him about this… need, of mine.' He frowns. _Need_. Nines has been deviant almost since the start, but it seems like he's got some holdovers still, something buried deep down in his wires and his code. Having needs, and wants of his own. There's still a whole lot of novelty there, and Nines not too sure what to do with it.

He wouldn't be here, right now, with Hank, if something hadn't happened to Gavin, if it hadn't shattered Nines to know he could have lost the man he loved most. Of course, on the other hand, maybe Gavin would be here too, instead, if things had just happened to go a little differently. Hank's a whole lot more familiar with that.

'How about I make you something to eat?'

'Uh, okay. Can I help?' He feels a little defensive, suddenly. 'I help Connor sometimes, too, alright? I hate it when he makes me feel like he's being my maid or something.'

'He does what he does because he loves you, Hank,' Nines says, gently, the back of his hand brushing against Hank's. 'But yes, I think that would be a good idea. You should take a more direct part of living a healthful life.'

'Whatever,' he mutters, but he smiles, so that's fair enough. 'I ate some carrots yesterday, you know, of my own free will,' he adds, like it's some sort of big deal.

'Congratulations, Lieutenant,' Nines replies, with another small smirk. Fucking androids.

Fifteen minutes later, the door opens and closes quickly, and Connor laughs at Sumo as he goes about taking off his leash. Connor must have made a stop before arriving home earlier that day, since Sumo'd wrecked his old one just the day before.

'Don't say anything,' Hank whispers at Nines. 'Let's see what he says.'

'I'm sure he can hear you with perfect clarity, Hank,' Nines murmurs in reply, grinning.

Yeah, probably, but Hank doesn't care.

'Oh.' Connor makes a little sound of surprise. Sumo bumps his head into the back of Hank's legs, which of course means Hank has to turn around and give his dog the attention he requires. 'What's going on?'

'Hank offered to help me prepare his dinner.'

Connor smiles, like he's proud of Hank or something. 'What did you decide on, then?' He wanders over to where Hank is cuddling Sumo, and drops down, giving the dog a good cuddle of his own. His eyes meet Hank's across the massive floof of Sumo's body, and they smile at each other.

'Baked salmon, with a lemon and garlic glaze, with grilled asparagus and potatoes in foil. Hank did all of the chopping.'

Satiated with cuddles, Sumo meanders over to his food bowl, and digs in. Connor stands up, and Hank leans against the cabinet as he does the same. Connor's arms wrap around him instantly, and he kisses Hank, hard. When Hank's able to say something (it happens eventually, of course), he blinks a few times before he smiles.

'Yeah, I missed you too.'

Nines speaks up. 'It's nice to see you again, Connor. Did Sumo enjoy his walk?'

'Yes, he did.' Connor gives Hank a warm squeeze, nuzzles against his cheek. 'I think he spotted that cat again, but I was able to convince him not to chase it?'

Hank chuckles, a little breathless. 'Oh?'

'We turned back and began to head home, and I started telling him about his dinner. I think that must have helped.'

'Yeah, of course.'

Connor slides away, though their hands brush against each other, Connor's fingers warm against Hank's palm. 'Hank, since I'm home now, and you've had a chance to help Nines get things started here, perhaps you should get a drink and relax? I can help him from here.'

'Uh, alright.' He gives Connor a kiss, and there Nines is, right beside him.

'That's a very good idea, Connor.'

Hank, feeling a little ballsy – it's definitely one of those _I'm doing this because I **can**_ type moments, leans over into Nines's personal space, all over again, and gives him another kiss on the cheek.

Nines smiles. Hank smiles right back at him, and then it's last night, fuck, this morning, actually, and he's making a run for the living room.

Sumo follows after him, and flops down right on top of his feet. That's fine by Hank, and he picks up the remote and switches on the television, just then remembering he'd forgotten to grab a drink. 'Ah, fuck – '

'Here, Hank, you forgot something.'

He blinks at Nines, then accepts the open can of diet soda. 'Thanks.'

'My pleasure,' he says, and Hank, for whatever reason, really finds himself believing Nines's every little word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like such a horrible tease, but, but, guess what happens next chapter, guys!!!


	4. Chapter 4

Dinner's finished in about half an hour, and it's mouthwatering, of course. Connor praises him for the part he'd played in everything, and Nines thanks him for his assistance, but really, all he'd done was chop some potatoes. Hank eats, and the two androids chat with each other, making small talk. Hank's hoping, praying to whatever higher power happens to be listening, that if Nines really does want to talk _sex_ with Connor, that they're doing it inside their heads. Hank's not making a lot of eye contact, by then, the food is actually really good.

He pushes his plate back, covers his mouth with a hand as he burps. 'That was pretty fucking tasty. So, uh, we got any plans for the rest of the night?'

'Nines has informed me of his interest in having sex,' Connor says, like that's just the sort of thing you _say_ , and Hank's glad he's finished eating and he wasn't drinking anything, either, because he probably would have choked.

As it is, he coughs a few time. 'That's really fucking great. Uh, I gotta go to the bathroom.'

'Of course, Hank,' Connor giggles. 'We'll clean up here.'

They shouldn't have to clean up his mess, but Hank rushes for the bathroom. Because he does need to piss, sure, but he also need to really, very thoroughly, wash his hands, and brush his teeth, and, and, _and_ – 

Ah, _fuck_.

He stands with his hands braced against the bathroom countertop, staring at his reflection. 'Well, you asked for it, you're gonna get it. Just, you better make it good for him, alright?' Because Nines is distressed, and if this is going to make him feel better, then he deserves the very best. Maybe Hank feels a little outside of himself, like this can't possibly be real life, but that doesn't mean he isn't actually completely on board. Because he is.

He washes his hands again, dries them off, wanders out into the living room. The kitchen light is off, and the bedroom door is closed. So, they wanted to do whatever this is in the living room – that's fine, he's okay with that. Probably needed to lock Sumo into the bedroom, which he also wouldn't have minded, since Sumo's favorite thing in the world – other than slobbering on his loved ones, going on walks, chasing after cats, and romping about in the mud – is shedding copious amounts of fur all over the bed.

Nines is sitting at one end of the couch, Connor at the other, so Hank's usual spot is already occupied by Connor (no big deal, that). The tv is still on (it'd been muted during dinner), and Hank guesses this isn't actually a sleazy porno, they're allowed to ease into things.

Connor's changed while Hank was in the bathroom. One of the over-sized shirts he adores, a pair of incredibly short shorts that were _not_ a hand-me-down from Hank; oh yeah, and his socks, and the sock garters, because he's a deviant pervert in the company of other like-minded individuals. Plus, he says they're really comfortable, and who is Hank to deny him the little things in life?

Nines is still in the stuff he was wearing earlier, but that's alright by Hank. Whatever works for him.

Connor shifts about, leans back against the plush cushioning at the far end of the couch, and stretches his legs out over Hank's lap. Nines leans forward a bit, and stares down at Connor, who smiles over at him. Nines, with a tilt of his head, smiles back.

Hank, in the middle of it all, feels the sweat start beading at the back of his neck.

'So…' The volume pops back on, and whatever tacky action flick was already on, it continues playing. 'No rush, right?'

Connor smiles at him, a little lazily, pulling his leg back and rubbing the heel of his sock-wearing foot against Hank's thigh. 'None at all. Is that okay, Nines?'

'Yes, I find this to be perfectly acceptable.'

Hank groans, but settles back. The movie plays on, but Hank's finding it difficult to focus, of course they had to notice _that_. Nines, at one point, gets up, and heads into the kitchen. He leans forward over the back of the couch, his arm bumping against Hank's.

'Here, I brought you a drink.'

The can of beer is ice cold in his hand, and the swallow that follows, as Hank accepts it, is pretty damn audible. 'Thanks.'

Nines swallows, and damnit, Hank's pretty in over his head. He smiles back at Nines because, yeah, this is all a little bit different – but he can do it, whatever, he's pretty damn sure he can do it.

Connor pulls his legs back, shifts onto his knees and leans against Hank. He gives a little sigh, making himself comfortable. Hank glances sideways, and Nines is looking back down the sofa at him and Connor.

Another pair of smiles are exchanged, and Hank takes a drink of his beer. It mixes with the minty aftertaste of his toothpaste, so yeah, it's not exactly perfectly, but it helps him relax.

Connor is stroking his arm, back and forth, back and forth. Nines is still _watching_ them, waiting. Hank thinks back, remembers what he'd said to Nines when he'd been cornered in the hall.

'So,' he says, and licks his lips. 'You figure out what you want?'

Nines's LED flashes yellow as he processes, and then he smiles, giving a nod of his head. 'Yes, actually, I have.' The tv switches off without any sort of obvious external input. He turns and, almost mechanically, lifts his leg up and shoves the coffee table away with the push of his foot, sliding it few feet back. Connor and Hank are both startled, and Hank actually bursts out laughing, and then adds in, 'Fuck!'

Nines chuckles as he stands. 'Sorry.'

'Uh, no worries, man. It's alright.'

Connor, still leaning all his weight into Hank, gazes up at the other android. And Hank, just sitting there, is suddenly, horribly and achingly giddy with anticipation.

Nines moves to stand in front of them. He's looking away, hands at his side, curled into loose fists. 'I've never done anything like this, and I'd rather you not tease me, if it's at all possible.'

Hank nods, eagerly, as Nines lifts a hand up to toy at the collar of his turtleneck. Even when he's not wearing that stiff-looking jacket of his, he likes things that cover his neck. He's still not making any eye contact, acting like he's shy, and Hank holds his breath as Nines runs his hands down his chest to his belted pants, fingers dragging over the heavy cloth.

'I just feel like… I can't not _feel_ ,' he mutters, and Connor sits up, pushing away from Hank. 'But it would be nice to not have to think, at least for a little while.' Even after Gavin's request not to fry his boyfriend's brain, with those fancy, super-advanced processors of his, Hank doesn't even know if that's a real possibility.

But yeah, he and Connor, they can definitely try to give him what he wants.

'You need…'

'Stay there, please. There's something I'd like to try.' Hank double takes because, while it's faint as hell, the softest of pinks, Nines is actually _blushing_. He's _nervous_. 'If that's alright?'

Hank nods, and Connor pipes up with, 'yes, Nines, whatever you want.'

He tugs on his tucked in shirt, freeing it from the confines of his slacks. He's still not looking at either of them, but that's okay, this is kind of – intimate? And really, really fucking sexy, Hank's blood is already pumping harder, and quickly flowing south.

Teeth nip at his bottom lip as he drags the shirt upwards, slowly taking it off. More and more of his pale flesh is uncovered, and Hank shifts in his seat. He exhales softly when Connor places a hand on his knee, gives it a reassuring squeeze. Hank drops his hand on top of Connor's, just to really nail it home that's he's here with Connor, he's _here_.

Nines pulls his shirt off, and it leaves his hair a little bit disturbed. He turns away from them completely, back to them now, as he turns the shirt right-side out and carefully folds it before leaning down – slowly – to set it down on the coffee table that's still a little catty-cornered after having been kicked.

He stands back up, just as slowly, and slides his hands down his chest again, not that it can be seen. Then he runs his hands backwards, across his hips, palms flat against the curve of his ass.

Hank lets out a stuttering breath, and Connor gives his hand another firm squeeze.

With a little hum, Nines unfastens his belt and sets it down on the table, curled in on itself. He begins to shimmy out of his slacks, baring his black briefs as he does, wiggling his hips like a fucking _tease_. The temperature keeps on spiking, and Hank wipes his free hand across his forehead, and it comes back damp.

He groans quietly as Nines bends his knee up so he can pull the pants off of that leg, shifts onto the other foot, and does the same thing all over again. He takes the time to fold them neatly, and bend over, and set them down, and Hank's slowly coming to terms with the fact Nines is gonna want him to _fuck him_ , and other than _yes fucking **please**_ , he doesn't actually know how that makes him feel.

Nines turns around, slowly, rubbing his hip idly as he reveals himself to them. Just the briefs and his socks (no sock-garters like Connor, they're totally different in every single way, _see_ ). He lifts his head up, makes eye-contact with Hank as he smiles very gently. 'So?'

'So?' Hank's voice has gone all hoarse again, for fuck's sake. 'Come over here, you.'

Nines licks at his lips and then bounds forward in a few eager steps, as Hank lets his legs loll open, as Nines comes to stand between them. There's the press of his knee against the cushion and Hank lifts his head up, blinks at Nines, and he gets a weirdly distorted feeling of deja vu, like they've been here, or at least they'd kind of been here before, already.

'Nines?'

A hand slides to the nape of his neck, fingers in his hair. Another presses to his cheek, bare white plastic flickering at the edge of his peripheral vision. Nines leans down, eager all over again, and presses his mouth to Hank's, licks across Hank's lips with his tongue.

Hank feels a few more of his preconceived notions flying right out the fucking window – rules, what rules? – and he makes a mad, kind of blind, grab for Nines just so he's finally holding on. He pulls his hand up and away from Connor's, just to get a hold on Nines's hip, fingers skimming across the firm yet yielding fabric of his briefs. Hank yanks him down without really thinking about what he's doing, and yeah, it's one of those moments where Nines could have stood tall just to show Hank he was stronger than any human, only he's chosen to fall down into Hank's lap like it couldn't have possibly been helped.

So it's good being humored, it really fucking is, and it's not like Nines hadn't already been humoring him before. Nines mouth breaks away from his and he tries to rearrange himself, straddling one of Hank's legs. Hank gets one very deep breath in before Nines's mouth is on his again, one hand carding up into his hair and _yanking_ back, _hard_. Hank's head jerks back with it and he cries out, which Nines takes as the perfect invitation to nip at his bottom lip, suck it into his mouth.

Hank's aware of Connor's presence, how he shifts about to the left, how the sofa moves some as he stands up. But all Hank can really _process_ , in the fucking moment, is Nines, his weight atop Hank's leg and the press of his cock, fucking hard and already leaking, pushed up against his belly. Sure, the shirt's in the way, but it's pressed up some and there's android pre-come leaking down onto his skin. And no, Hank doesn't fucking mind.

Nines breaks off again, this time with a little sigh. His eyes are closed and Hank is trying to catch his breath while Nines is giving him an opening, because when he really wants something, it seems, he's positively merciless in how he goes about getting it. The light at his temple is glowing a bright yellow, and he licks across his licks – those lips that are slick with Hank's spit, after all – and Hank twigs onto what's going on a few seconds too late. The fucker's analyzing his mouth the way Connor would have and, well, after Connor started putting things like Hank's dick in there as well, he really did stop worrying about everything else.

Nines leans to one side, slides a hand down to Hank's chest. Eyes are still closed as he hums to himself, softly, the beat of Hank's heart hammering against Nines's hand. And there's the faint thump of his thirium regulator, beating out of time.

'Nines?'

He tilts his head the other way, eyes opening as he smiles. He dives in, gently this time, and very slowly kisses Hank, opening his mouth like it's the sweetest fucking thing. And maybe it is, ah, _fuck_ , well, at least, after Connor's, it's a very close second.

Connor, Connor, where's he gotten to? Hank looks around, gaze hazy with lust, and he feels Nines slide back off of his lap and Hank rolls his head to that side, looking down at him, as Nines smiles up at him, like this is a perfectly innocent place for him to be, kneeling so eagerly between Hank's legs.

'Lieutenant, please, if you could lift yourself up – yes, thank you,' he murmurs, and the soft skin of Hank's inner thigh, tugging his shorts down and off and over, handing them backwards to Connor, who Hank peers at through a fucking daze – oh, there he is. Hank eases back down, and he jerks forward as Nines, eager as fucking ever, rocks forwards on his knees and slides his hand around the base of Hank's cock, hand nestled down in his pubes.

'Fuck!'

'Patience, Lieutenant, we're getting there.' He presses his mouth to the darkly flushed head of the dick in his hand, lashes fluttering as he closes his eyes. He sucks, very softly, yet very insistently, as he slides forward and takes more of Hank in. His mouth is hot and wet and perfect and Hank threads a hand into Nines's slightly mussed hair, messing it even more, yeah, because he fucking _can_. Clenches and unclenches his fingers, and Nines's hair is too impossibly soft to even process, so like Connor's. Hank cracks his eyes open and lets his head loll to the side. Connor is standing a few feet away from where Nines is kneeling and sucking Hank's dick like his life depended on it. There's curiosity in Connor's expression, and something bright and _joyful_ in his eyes. Of course, Connor's probably also keeping an eye on both their vitals – it's Connor, it's one of those things he does, okay – but he's also got a very nice scene playing out in front of him. So.

 _So_.

'Connor,' he groans, and shuts his eyes again, pulling on Nines's hair (there's an answering moan that Hank feels in his balls), and thrusting up, gently, into his mouth. ' _Nines_.' Nines eases back and lets Hank free with a wet little sigh.

He rests his head against the side of Hank's knee, looking up at him. He's tracing idle (to Hank, anyway) patterns against the bare skin right across from him, Hank's naked thigh. There's such a small smile on his lips, his eyes are _aching_. Hank recalls blank-eyed androids, pieces of plastic with no soul in them, nothing at all. Fucking androids. Fucking _deviants_.

'I want to feel you inside me, Lieutenant. Please.'

Hank sucks in a breath so sharply, he almost starts coughing. 'Okay,' he says, though he feels like he's going to choke. And sure, his voice does crack, like he's a fucking horny teenager or something, but look at how many fucks Hank has to give? Absolutely none.

Nines's smile widens as he stands up, effortlessly graceful. 'Thank you.'

Connor steps up behind Nines, and slides an arm around his bare stomach. Sighing softly, Nines leans back against Connor, closing his eyes as Connor mouths at his neck. He kisses, and he sucks, and he bites, and Nines gasps as Connor starts to ease him out of his briefs. The black cloth slides away and Nines's cock bounces up, at fucking attention.

Nines chuckles, softly, and Connor giggles. He moves in front of Nines to help him get rid of his underwear, bending down and giving Hank an absolutely _delicious_ shot of his ass in those all too revealing booty shorts as he does. Holy fucking _hell_ , Hank is gonna _die_.

Nines slips away from him, and Connor turns to watch him go. Hank's got his breath under control but he's still hot as hell as Nines climbs onto his lap and his naked dick happily presses itself against Hank's stomach, all hard and slick. He braces his legs to both sides of Hank's, kneels upwards as Connor walks up behind him. Connor's smiling down at both of them, a faint rush of pink on his cheeks. Hank's gonna burst into flame any fucking minute now, _any fucking minute_.

Nines pets his cheek with one hand, and Hank turns into it, presses his mouth to Nines's. They kiss slowly, though Nines gasps as Connor – one hand on his shoulder, stroking gently – leans against his back. His other hand is hidden, and Nines pulls backwards with a sharper breath as Connor does something positively insidious (like, press into him with his fingers).

Presses right at the pressure plates where Nines is most sensitive, and his voice glitches out, a burst of static, as he gasps Connor's name. Hank smirks. 'I guess he could have given you some sort of warning,' he murmurs, and Nines gives him a sharp look, and Connor laughs like it's the funniest thing ever, period.

'P-please,' Nines groans, closing his eyes and leaning his head forwards, forehead presses to Hank's cheek. 'Please, don't. Yes? Don't stop.'

'You ever did this before?'

Nines whines softly, shaking his head. ' _No_.'

Oh – _oh_. 'You sure it isn't something…'

Nines shakes his head again, quick as anything. 'Gavin and I… this is not… what he _needs_. Ah!' Connor's fingering him pretty fucking mercilessly, from what Hank's slowly melting brain is able to tell. 2+2 is 5, wait, no, Hank's pretty fucking sure that it's actually _4_. 'I need this. _**I** need this. **Please**._.'

Hank puts an arm around Nines and jerks him closer, mashing his dick between their bodies (sure is good that androids don't really feel pain as humans do, right?). Nines blinks slowly, and lifts his head up, like it's too much for him and he's having some trouble sorting himself out.

His LED is rapidly cycling yellow, so Hank's gonna give him whatever time he needs. Connor, though, comes right out of left field and does something – that Hank, of course, can't _see_ – and Nines jerks forward and Hank's dick jolts. Connor's smiling so fucking sweetly, like he's actually trying to play fair when everyone else in the fucking room knows he's anything but above board.

Still, Connor pets Nines's shoulder again, gives him a squeeze. 'You want us to make you stop thinking, right?'

Nines's nods, trembling faintly. 'Y-yes.'

The hand at Nines's shoulder moves sideways, hidden behind the back of Nines's head. Nines leans forward a little bit more, reaching down to take hold of Hank and maneuver his dick into position. Hank sucks a breath in and pushes it out roughly, as Nines shifts backwards and seats himself on Hank's lap. 'Ah,' Hank gasps, dazed, Nines's tightness, the fucking _heat_. He takes a few more breaths, and Hank strokes Nines's chest, sweaty fingers slipping some as he squeezes his hip. 'Okay?'

Nines's leans forwards, then backwards, lifts his hips up and then lets himself rock back downwards. Hank grunts and digs his nails in at the curve of flesh he's got in his hand, finding it hard to breathe as Nines's moves on him. His lashes flutter softly as he sighs, and breathes, the steady rise and fall of his chest. 'Please,' Nines's whispers, closing his eyes and tilting his head forward.

No, that won't do. Hank lifts a hand up to shove his chin back up a bit, so he can get a good look at him as Nines's fucks himself, riding Hank. Connor, still behind him, hums – the way Nines likes to hum, a small, pleased sound. Hank notices the flesh peeling back from Connor's hand as he slides his hand across, what it looks like, the back of Nines's neck. Hank blinks slowly, brain really chugging to comprehend, but Nines is so fucking tight and Hank gives a few enthusiastic thrusts up into him, just to drive the point home.

Nines gasps and static crackles in his voice box as Connor does _something_ , looking pleased as fuck as he does. 'Yes, yes,' Nines murmurs, lifting himself and rocking back down, so fucking tight and hot and how can Hank even _breathe_? The fucking two of them, just look at them, and Hank can't _process it_.

'Yes,' Nines murmurs, again, ' _more_.'

And Hank rocks up into him with all the strength he can manage, and Connor does something else with his hand and Nines's gives another broken little cry, fucked up as hell, more crackles and static. Whatever Connor's doing, it's really helping to mess Nines up. And Connor has the most innocent look on his face, ever, biting at the tip of his tongue as he _concentrates_. But whatever he's doing, it's certainly not actually innocent at all.

'What's that you're doing?' Hank manages to ask, and Connor tilts his head to the side as he gives a soft smile.

'As you know, there's an access port at the back of any android's neck. The wiring here,' he says, lashes lowered as he licks at his lips, as he pays attention to what he's doing, 'is very, _very_ sensitive.'

Ohhh, _oh_. 'Why'd you never tell me about that?' he asks, and Nines gives a small cry as Hank thrusts up into him, really working up a sweat.

Connor looks somewhat ashamed. 'I hadn't thought that you would be interested in sharing that with me, Hank – I realize, now, that I was wrong to have hidden it from you.'

'Apology accepted, Con. Just, like, whatever. Keep fiddling your fingers, he's really eating this up.'

Nines smirks as he's fucked (with?) from both sides. Hank's amazed he's even still going, he's only human after all. But Nines clenches around him and Hank's eyes roll back in his skull, because the way it feels is better than anything human, that's for fucking sure. As a species, human beings were going to die out – and with all the time Hank's spent, in the last few years, wanting to just be _dead_ , as long as he gets to spend as much time with Connor and Nines and _whatever_ before it ends up happening, let that happens. Let androids inherit the planet, humans be damned.

Hank, really, really, _really_ needs to focus. 

'You still good?' he murmurs. He's not even sure _he's_ alright, but Nines gives a very slow nod, light flashing from yellow to blue and back again as he makes small, needy noises, spitting out more crackles and static as he does. Interference, sounding like a really messed up radio, or something like that.

'Close?' another murmur. Nines's closes his eyes, all the lines of his features gone tight. His LED is flashing red (Connor's, on the other hand, is a very pleasant blue), and he lets out a loud groan as he drops himself down and Hank _jolts_ , feels the heat and the tension building, the pressure in his balls. 'Come on, Nines, you're doing such a fucking good job, okay?'

Nines whimpers, lips trembling. Connor smiles and, with another merciless twist of his fingers, Nines throws his head back, knocking into Connor as he does. Hank feels the hot spurt of his release all over his stomach, and he gives Nines a few more thrusts, as aggressive as he can manage with the android pinning him down. Nines leans his head forward, panting against Hank's shoulder as Hank finally gets a look at what Connor's doing to his neck.

Connor's slender fingers are coated in blue up to the second joint, and he gives another little hum, pleased as anything, as he _jerks_ on something, and Hank's hips rock up into Nines as he comes, and Nines goes absolutely fucking still, goes absolutely fucking _limp_ , and sags forward onto Hank with all of his weight.

A jolt of panic rushes through Hank, but Hank swallows it down as Connor shakes his head with a little laugh and closes up the paneling at the back of Nines's neck, the little pop of plastic on plastic as it clicks in the place.

'Is he okay?' His heart's pounding, all out of whack. Gavin's gonna fucking _kill_ them if he's not.

Connor smiles broadly. 'It's just a reboot. Mission successful, Hank – I believe we gave him exactly what he wanted.'

'Well, okay,' Hank replies, awash with relief and also, well, a little bit smothered by Nines's resting frame. 'But he's heavy as fuck, you know? How long should this take?'

Connor grins at him, and starts licking one of his fingers clean. Innocent, almost. 'Connor,' Hank _growls_. 'Just how long is this passed out robot gonna sit on my dick? Connor – Connor, come back!'

But Connor, who'd started strolling away with a little sashay of his hips, keeps on doing just that.

' _Connor_!'

–  
–

The rest of the evening rolls by in a lazy sort of fog, once Hank lets himself relax. After Nines finishes rebooting, which ends up only taking a few minutes, he thanks Hank for everything and climbs off of his lap. Hank, whose muscles had gotten pretty sore in even that small amount of time, tells Nines that he's welcome but it really wasn't anything, like, Nines did know that he could count on them, right? Hank's just glad to have done what he could do, and so's Connor.

Hank, though, really needs a shower, even if all he did after washing himself off was stand in the water until it starts to go cold. Connor must have slipped into the bathroom without him hearing, and left out a fresh set of clothes for him to wear to bed. Hank smiles, at that, and after he towels off, gets dressed. Brushes his teeth. Brushes his hair.

He's fucking exhausted, and yeah, most of it is mental but a good chunk of it's emotional. He tells the two androids he's gonna hit the sack, kisses them both goodnight. Connor tells him, he's going to spend the rest of the night with Nines, if that's alright with Hank? Hank tells him it's fine, and then he gets a couple more kisses for his trouble, from both of them. Then he stumbles off to bed.

A fog, right.

Sumo's happy to see him, and there's excess hair all over the bed. Hank doesn't bother with any of that, just crawls into the bed and climbs under the covers, and feels the mattress shake as Sumo jumps up after him.

–  
–

Hank suddenly wakes to the sound of Sumo's paws thumping as he runs across the floor. He's alone in bed, which isn't all that unusual. Connor's almost always awake before he is, that's nothing new. But it's different, this time, since – as recollection of the night before rises back to the surface of his mind – he knows that Connor probably hadn't even joined him at all.

He rolls out of bed, a little groggy, muscles still a little sore. He smells bacon, and pancakes, and he starts to wander out of the bedroom but stops before he gets to the door when he hears the soft murmur of Connor's voice, somewhere out there on the other side of the wall.

There's an equally soft murmur from Nines, and Hank wishes he knew what they were saying. He doesn't much feel like he's in the mood to eavesdrop in his own fucking house. He's done plenty of running away in it, and all of it too lately. There's gotta be some sort of line.

So he goes out into the hall, expecting to see them right there. Only they're not? He gets to the kitchen and there they are, and he wonders if he's going crazy, or they were doing another of their android tricks. They can copy voices perfectly, so maybe they're also ventriloquists – who the fuck even knows?

Connor smiles at him, and comes over to hand him a cup of coffee, and kiss him good morning. 'Did you sleep well?'

Hank nods. 'Missed you, though. Nines keep you up all night?'

Connor actually blushes as he grins, and spins away from Hank before he can make a grab for him. Goes back over to where Nines is plating up the pancakes, which is when Hank finally notices that Connor is dressed for work and Nines is sporting some of Connor's clothes which are actually old things he 'borrowed' from Hank. Hank blinks, and takes a sip of his coffee – perfect as fucking ever. Nines looks good in the borrowed clothes, though it's a different sort of good than when it's Connor who's wearing them. He fills them out a whole lot better, that's for sure. But the two different things, but they're both very nice.

He sets his coffee down to pick up his plate, and a fork, knowing he doesn't actually have enough hands for all this.

'I'm going to take Sumo for a walk now. Is that okay?'

'Yeah, of course.' Hank gestures at Nines with a fork. Oh yeah, sudden idea – Hank sets his fork down on the plate like any fucking other person in existence would know to do, and grabs his cup of coffee. 'Maybe you want to put on some more clothes before you head out, though?'

Nines tilts his head to the side, smirks. 'I think what I am wearing right now is more than acceptable. Don't you agree, Connor?'

'You look perfect, Nines,' Connor replies, cheerful as anything.

Hank sighs, then mutters, 'Fucking androids.'

'Hank, please.' Connor hurries him towards the table, where he takes a seat (there's a glass of his own morning juice sitting to the side, blue as the blood he'd licked off his fingers the night before; shit, why don't they get how that's just fucking _weird_?), as Nines leaves the room and calls for Sumo. 'I have to leave soon, but I'd like to be able to spend some time with you before work.'

'Yeah, of course.' He sets his coffee to the side, and reaches for the syrup. Sugar-free, and low-fat. Hank's life keeps on getting fucked, and this is the sequel. Now that he actually thinks about it, that's probably not even real sugar in his coffee, but it tastes good so _whatever_. 'Wait, what day is it?'

'Friday.'

'Oh, yeah.' Friday's, this month anyway, means Hank doesn't work, though he still is on-call – but that means he won't be seeing Connor again until the end of the day. Means he'll get to spend the day with Nines instead. He cuts into the stack of pancakes, wanting to get as much stabbed onto his fork as he can. The bacon, since it's his favorite, is what he's saving for last. 'That's cool.' Like, whatever. After last night, Nines surely couldn't want anything else from him, right? Especially if Connor wasn't in the picture. Especially if…

Hank feels the heat of a blush at the tips of his ears. Ah, fuck. It's the same old insecurities, only they've been repackaged and given to him anew. Nines couldn't actually like him for him, right? Only he remembers what Gavin had said, how Nines is _fond_ of him. Ah, _fuck_.

Connor smiles at him like he knows exactly what's going on inside Hank's mind, and takes a drink from his glass full of thirium. 'You're going to have a really great day.'

–  
–

After breakfast, Hank cleans up the mess in the kitchen and goes back to bed. Connor's gone, and Sumo and Nines haven't yet gotten back yet, and Hank doesn't know what else to do. He's still feeling a little groggy, and hey, Connor's not here to tell him he needs to digest more before he takes a fucking nap.

But he doesn't actually sleep. He's not tired enough for it, though he feels worn out, and it's not all that long until the front door opens and closes, heralding Nines and Sumo's return.

A few minutes later, after some happy barking from Sumo, and Nines very firmly telling him _Yes, Sumo, you are a very good boy_ , Hank realizes he's not alone in the room anymore. Nines doesn't anything to him directly, so Hank rolls over to face him, goes, 'what?'

Nines shakes his head. 'I was wondering where you'd gone off to.'

'Just felt like trying to get a little more sleep.'

Nines braces one hand against the door frame, and he smiles, very broadly. 'May I join you?' he asks, and Hank is pretty damn sure they're not gonna actually be getting any _sleeping_ done, that's for sure. Which is alright by him, since he was probably just bored, alone in the house – he's already waking up.

'Yeah, whatever,' he says, like it doesn't matter either way, though he can't resist the shiver of anticipation that goes through him when Nines makes the mattress shift to one side, climbing into the bed.

–  
–

The next time Nines brings up wanting to take Sumo for a walk, he asks if Hank would mind going to visit Gavin for him. It doesn't even bother him anymore, going there for Gavin's sake, for Nines's, though he still dislikes the concept of hospitals in general. He even gets a parking spot close to the place, so he doesn't have to walk for fucking years (on days when only one of them works, Connor tends to just take a taxi).

Gavin's actually excited to see him – he looks a whole lot better, actually, he's not overly pale or anything like that. 'They're discharging me, you're not gonna make me call a cab, are you?'

'Fuck that, of course not.' But that certainly does cut the visit short, though he calls his house phone to let Nines know what's going on. Nines doesn't pick up, but he hears the message Hank leaves. Nines is ready, dressed in his proper clothing, by the time Hank stops by to pick him up.

'I took the liberty of informing my predecessor of what is going on. Though, might we stop by Gavin's place first? I imagine he'd appreciate wearing something other than the hospital gown home.'

'No prob,' Hank tells him, since after everything else, it's the smallest fucking blip on the radar, ever. For the rest of the ride, all Nines can talk about is Gavin, Gavin, _Gavin_ , and Hank – even though he tries, he really does try – can't keep the smile off of his face.

–  
–

Gavin still has to wait for the nurse to get to his room and hand over the discharge papers, but he's glad to have a change of clothes. He goes into the bathroom to put the new stuff on and Hank relaxes in the chair he'd sat in during all his other visits, even the short-lived one earlier that day. If Gavin didn't have to wait on the paperwork, they could have been downstairs with Nines and Connor.

But Hank's not gonna cut him loose right at the end of everything, not after everything else he's done because of, and for, this absolutely jerk of a man. Standards, remember? Hank's got plenty of them, actually, and not all of them are obnoxiously low.

'You're fucking vibrating in impatience. Can't wait to get out of his hellhole?'

'Like, as soon as I was admitted, I was ready to leave.' Gavin flops back to sit on the bed, dangling his legs over the side of it. 'Fuck, you really don't even know.'

It's been a while since Hank had to be in a hospital for any reason whatsoever, let alone himself, and he'd really rather not thing about Cole right now, thanks a lot. 'I get it.'

'So, uh… how did everything, uh… fuck, I don't actually want to know.'

'All Nines has talked about, since finding out you're getting out of this dump, is you. He misses you, alright? And we all get it, you miss him too.'

Gavin's look of disgust softens to something way more vulnerable, the sort of something Hank's not even sure what to do with. 'Thanks, alright? For giving him a place to stay, and taking care of him. I really, you know – '

But he stops, abruptly. Hank _really_ gets that. 'Yeah, I know.'

'You know, if it… if it ever happened the other way around, if Connor was freaked out because something happened to you, we'd take care of him. You know that, right?' Gavin's blurted it all out, and he's blushing, and Hank decides to take pity on him and not give him too much grief about it.

'Thanks.'

Gavin nods at him, and then looks away.

Hank takes a deep breath, sighs. Picks at cuff of his sleeve, not looking at Gavin, and when he does look over at the other man when the silence gets to be a little too much, Gavin still isn't actually looking at him. And anyhow, Hank doesn't really know what to say. Had some really great sex with your boyfriend this morning. If Connor ever needs the same treatment, I know I can count on you and Nines. Yeah – between what's happened, and what could always happen in the future, that somehow seems out of fucking line. Right? Though, and it's just as sudden a thought, Nines probably had recorded it. Last night, too, which probably also existed from Connor's point of view, too. If Gavin actually was interested in seeing any of what had happened, then… then what? Then he'd get to watch it, and that would be fine.

Right?

 _Right_.

Hank feels like he should have some sort of issue with all that, only he doesn't.

'I'm pretty much dying for a cigarette,' Gavin groans.

'Sorry, you know I gave that shit up.'

'Yeah, yeah, I fucking know.'

The door opens and Stacy pops her head in. 'Hi!' She leaves the door open and she enters the room, some long-awaited paperwork in hand. 'Are you ready to go home now, Gavin?'

'I sure as fuck am!' he says, dropping down off of the bed, and wincing.

She gives a small laugh, shaking her head, and Hank sighs as he stands back up. 'You have to continue to take care of yourself, Mr Reed. No work for another week, absolutely no strenuous activity at all. There's a second page of instructions, and a reminder to follow up with your general practitioner as soon as you're able to. Monday would be best.'

Gavin frowns, but he takes the paperwork from her. The top page, that's the discharge form. 'Absolutely no strenuous activity?' He sounds kind of put out.

' _None_ ,' Stacy replies, putting emphasis on the word. 'You're still healing, and you don't want to have to visit us again.'

Gavin's looking like he's doing some mental calculations, trying to figure out what he and Nines can get away with doing without popping any important internal stitches. Hank sighs, yet again, and takes Gavin by the arm. 'You need anything else?'

'Just my bag.'

Hank gives him a little push towards the door as Stacy makes her exit, and he grabs up the bag, that's actually the plastic bag that Hank had brought in the other day. There's the books that Nines had sent him, and all the cards – and, weirdly enough, all of the balloons, popped and with all the air pressed out of them, folded into neat little squares.

'You finished being a nosy fucking bastard?' Gavin snaps, but there's not too much heat in his words. Hank glances at Gavin, who's already standing over at the door, _waiting_. He doesn't actually wait any further than that, gives Hank no time to actually answer; he just turns and heads out into the hall, making an immediate turn to the left.

–  
–

They actually end up in the same elevator with Stacy as they make their way from the second floor down to the first, and Gavin makes small talk with her (there's something she needs to get from the front desk). He looks absolutely delighted as he realizes something, something he has to share with his captive audience. 'Oh! You can meet Nines.'

'Your boyfriend?' she asks, her eyes twinkling.

Gavin blushes, but he grits out, still awkward as hell. 'Yeah, _that_ Nines.'

'That's a very strange name for a human.'

'What! I never said he was a human. Right?' He doesn't give her a chance to answer. 'He's the best android _ever_ ,' and Gavin elbows Hank in the side. Hank takes pity on him, again, and doesn't elbow him right back, because knowing his luck he'd probably end up having to sit in the hospital a few more days and, for fuck's sake, he really doesn't want any of that. 'He's an RK900, one of a kind.'

'RK900?' Stacy's eyes widen. 'So he's from the same series as Connor?' _Every_ android in existence seems to know about Connor, and moments like these, Hank can't help but be endlessly proud of him for all that he accomplished – especially since, for the most part, he was fighting against himself to even get it done.

Gavin groans. Of course, he'd think differently. 'Uh, yeah, I guess he is but that doesn't matter. But Nines is much cooler, just wait and see.'

The elevator dings as the doors open, and Hank rolls his eyes as Gavin stomps right out into the waiting room. Stacy follows after him, and Hank takes up the end of the line. Gavin and Nines have already made eye contact with one another, and Gavin is walking straight at him, though Nines is making more progress, what with his much longer legs.

And what happens next, Hank hadn't actually thought it was possible. Gavin is, as previously stated, highly allergic to any sort of affection – just relaying messages to him, Hank understood that. But Nines opens his arms wide, and Gavin crashes into him, not giving any fucks as to where they are or who might be watching them, as he puts his arms around Nines, as Nines wraps his arms around Gavin. The look on Nines's face is gentler than Hank has ever seen it before, as he stares down at Gavin with honest affection; and Gavin, well, who knows what's even going on with him, since his face is smashed into Nines's chest, hidden away.

He gets it, in that moment. Nines really does love his human, and Gavin obviously feels something, just as real, in return. But it's Gavin, and even though he's been spending more time with him lately, he doesn't actually know how he _feels_.

'It's good to see you, Gavin,' Nines says, so very softly.

Gavin pulls back to look him in the face, just smiles at him. Might not actually trust himself to say anything. He pulls back a little bit more, as Connor takes his place to Hank's left.

'Uh, oh yeah. Stacy, this is Nines. Nines, this is Stacy. She's been my nurse, like, you know.'

Stacy smiles, and waves at Nines, who gives a polite nod of his head but is far more interested in keeping all of his attention focused on Gavin.

Stacy, on the other hand, keeps looking over at Connor, she's not even being all that subtle. Connor, admittedly, looks like he's ready to blush. Sometimes, since he's pretty famous – next to Markus and the Jericho leaders, he's one of the saviors of the android revolution – he gets a lot of unwanted attention from friendly androids, and some of them can be pretty pushy. Stacy, though, is keeping back, waiting to be addressed directly.

Gavin groans, again, and shifts some. His arm is still around Nines, and Nines's is still around him. 'And that's Hank but you know him already, and of fucking course, that's Connor. Go on, say hi to him like the fangirl we all know you are.'

Stacy's blushing, her LED flickering yellow to blue, yellow to blue. 'I-I'm sorry! I never actually thought I'd have to chance to meet you.' She extends her hand to Connor, who smiles back at her, and extends his arm in turn. Their hands go white, they do the whole information exchange thing, and Stacy blinks back the tears that had gathered in her eyes. 'I should go now, but thank you – it's been a real pleasure.'

She flees almost immediately, back into the hospital, almost as if her getting to meet one of her heroes has made her forget there was a _reason_ she'd come to the waiting room – well, she'd remember it soon enough.

Connor chuckles, shaking his head as he rubs the back of his neck. 'I didn't even _say_ anything,' he mutters, and Hank laughs, ruffling his hair and then yanking him over for a one-armed hug.

'You're so good at what you do, you don't even have to open your mouth.' Maybe that could be taken in a few different directions, but before Gavin's able to interject and shove his foot down all of their mouths, collectively, Nines takes center stage.

'You look cold,' he says, and while Gavin protests, Nines overrules him. He takes off his jacket and drapes it over his human's shoulder. Gavin's protests fall short, because he cuddles into the jacket immediately, it's pretty fucking tender. Nines just beams at him, it's clear there's no other place he'd like to be.

Gavin turns his head so he can press his cheek to Nines's chest. 'Come on Nines, I wanna go home.'

Ah, well, there's always that one place that's immediately better. Nines nods, and turns with Gavin, still with one arm wrapped around him, wrapped up in each other. They shuffle towards the exit, and Connor sighs.

'Nines has informed me that he has no problem in getting them a taxi. Would you like to go home now, Hank?'

'Yeah,' Hank replies, pulling away from the hug and dropping his hand down to grab hold of Connor's. He wouldn't have minded it, either, taking them wherever they wanted before going their own way. But, this works, too. 'Let's go home.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said when I first started posting this, this is pretty much still the start of things. Each story is a different arc of the whole entire main series, so things that were introduced here (like the serial killer, and the bs towards androids thanks to some shitty humans), will get expanded on later. Thank you for reading my crazy indulgent story!
> 
>  
> 
>   
> ~~*digs herself a new hole, and buries herself deep*~~  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> I've got six more main stories plotted out for this series, as well as numerous side-fics, so, please, be patient me while I get this all done, there is **so much more to come**. Also, comments/kudos/bookmarks are all good things, I really would love to hear what you think about this crazy monstrosity of mine.
> 
> The story has been betaed, chopped up into chapters, so now all I have to do is post the rest of it. Enjoy!


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